


The General, The Captain, and the Visage

by JestheJedi



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2019-10-20 07:21:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 65,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17617985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JestheJedi/pseuds/JestheJedi
Summary: A look at our three human antagonists of the sequel trilogy and their relation to each other. This story begins six months before The Force Awakens and fits in-between the events of the movies until Episode 9. This is by far the most sexually explicit thing I would ever write, and I did it as tastefully as possible. But this is a story about villainous characters, so, you know...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is by far the most sexually explicit thing I would ever write, and I did it as tastefully as possible. But this is a story about villainous characters, so, you know...

1

Six Months Before the Completion of Starkiller Base

 

Hux took long light steps in front of the taller chrome figure behind him. It was the way he always walked. “He looks like her pet.” He had heard a trooper once say. Hux wasn’t threatened. Captain Phasma was an indispensable resource, a tool, and nothing more. She possessed an innate ability to train warriors. These were the finest troops the Galaxy had ever seen. So, although the young general was strictly against women in an army, because they were physically inferior, her presence had never bothered him. She was a terror. He loved her for that.

            General Armitage Hux was not an intimidating looking man. He knew this. It was only his position that garnered him respect. Not everyone knew exactly how he had achieved his status at such a young age, but they didn’t question his authority. He was intelligent and ruthless and that was all anyone needed to know. He broke away from their matched gates to check in with Supreme Leader Snoke, leaving her to go over preliminary reports and inspect the training equipment.

Before Captain Phasma met Hux’s father she had never even seen a working computer, much less a droid. No one would ever be able to tell now.

It had been months since she’d been off ship. In truth, she began to miss ground for the first time in years. She missed the messy people outside the precise organization in which she lived. They were unreliable and amusing. She had seen more of the Galaxy than she ever could have imagined. Every so often she missed Hux’s father, for the sole purpose of showing him just how far she’d come.

            Captain Phasma enjoyed her role in the First Order. There was nothing quite like the inaudible gasps the first time she spoke, and her gender then made obvious. She was a fighter first, and a woman second. If it weren’t for her size she might never have achieved what she had. Dominance. Her chrome suit glistened fear wherever she went. It was time for their monthly review. Every one of her soldiers was excelling. As she removed her armor and snapped her vest into place she smiled. This was her favorite time of the month. It coincided with another monthly meeting she looked forward to at least once a month, training General Hux.

            If the smaller orange haired man was ever afraid of her he never let on. She admired that. His stature wasn’t small for a human, but every human was shorter than her six foot six frame. His appearance was frail, but he was stronger than he looked. He was agile and merciless. He could also take hits in a way that made her proud to be associated with him.

            Sparring gear was very different than armor, it was nothing more than a leotard really, light and thin. The suit itself covered the entire body to measure impact and performance. Soft open-fingered gloves protected hands from scrapes. A chest piece was worn around the chest to lessen sharp blows, it extended down under the crotch and fastened to the vest in the back. Nothing but a padded mask that slid over the head shielded the face. The goal was to pin your opponent to the ground, by any means, so that a kill shot could be taken. Not one officer in the First Order had ever truly beaten Phasma. Hux was the exception. She couldn’t very well kill him in training, so she had yielded a handful of times, explaining each time how she would have incapacitated him permanently had they been fighting to the death. Each time he looked so disappointed. She liked that.

            In the beginning, a decade before, Hux was nothing more than a survivor. He had few skills or prowess that would have set him apart in a fight. Only his endurance won out in those early years. Phasma had quickly beaten him each time and patiently showed him his mistakes and what he needed to do to improve. Each time he had returned the following month, unwavering, practiced and unintimidated. She respected him for that. Whatever he did, he stood behind it. He was in the moment, and he never apologized. She trusted him for those reasons. Although he was technically her superior officer, he never treated her that way.

            Hux’s strongest asset was that he was faster than he looked. He never moved unnecessarily, and he never hesitated. These qualities only enhanced his endurance of course, and she had certainly knocked him out of consciousness enough, but he was tough. Hux could take a hit, a hard hit and not bat an eye. Phasma had taken her time to find out just how hard she could strike without completely incapacitating him. It was very, very hard. She in fact, could not strike him hard enough to render him unable to fight back without him blacking out, which of course she couldn’t gage well enough not to kill him. He was the only one who presented her with a challenge because she was his only opponent. She had to be smarter and quicker to beat him and she relished their matches. She had taught him everything she knew by now. He made small mistakes that were expected for someone who didn’t train daily, even so, the first time she had to yield to him two years before he had accused her of letting him win. She never let anyone win.

            Phasma stood waiting in the simulation chamber for five minutes. General Hux was never late. It was midday rations for the simulation team, so she couldn’t just ask a tech to find out where he was. She huffed and headed into the changing station. It was a round room with a narrow circular bench that extended all the way around. Sparring suits hung in sanitation bags around the room. The quiet clink, clink, clink of her boots was missing in sparring gear. As she came around the corner, half expecting not to find him, there he was.

            He was completely undressed except for his standard black, uniform-issue mid-thigh briefs. She wasn’t sure what came over her that she made no effort to look away. Just plain curiosity maybe. He reached to finish hanging his uniform but turned sharply at her presence.

            His shoulders were much broader bare than they were under his layered uniform. Well-defined abdominal muscles rippled slightly as he pulled his armor down from the hook to acknowledge her. His chest and stomach were so bare that she wondered if he had removed his body hair on purpose.  The upper part of his chest was tight and sculpted. Unlike his father, there was no fat on his frame, only lean shapely muscles from his calves up. Even without her helmet on, her face was not full of expression. She passed her eyes over him and resisted the urge to grin with gratification at the knowledge she had just obtained.

            “What?” He scowled. She realized how disconcerting her appearance at that moment must be. But That wasn’t it. He wasn’t embarrassed, he was waiting for an explanation, waiting for her to report what had brought her there.

            “You’re six minutes late.” She said flatly. She wasn’t sure why she didn’t turn around, but he went on as if she weren’t even there. He was smiling. He clasped his suit and reached for his shoes.

            “Out of my control. Snoke kept me. I thought you’d understand when I relayed that the entire Duvbi system pledged their allegiance and financial support yesterday.” He slapped on his chest piece and looked to her for acknowledgement as he fastened it.

            _Just like that? All that Ore? Their own well-trained armies_. _How did he manage that?_ He may not have been the strongest physically, but his talents for diplomacy and cunning were to be envied by anyone decades his senior.

            “Indeed. What a gain,” She allowed him a small grin.

            “I wish you could have seen their reception line of soldiers. I can’t wait for you to watch their coordinated ground maneuvers. They rival our own. Unfortunately, that won’t be for another few weeks. I saw that the training reports coming in are superb. Well done.” Hux was used to talking at her with little response. In the beginning of their acquaintance it made him uneasy, but now he felt he could tell what she was thinking even when she said nothing.

           

As their fight began Phasma could see his scowl behind the black face covering. He didn’t look so small from across a room nearly naked, but standing over him in a tight black suit, he was thin, like a shadow. He hadn’t batted an eye at her looking him up and down without his shirt on minutes before their fight. She must have known he had so little body hair, but she hadn’t. She assumed his freckling followed his entire frame, correctly. She realized it had been years since she had paid any attention to a sparsely dressed figure. They were below her notice. She was irritated with herself for being able to picture his chest as she shoved him against the ground. Or that she still was picturing him without his clothes at all. His foot set her jaw sideways in a way that brought her back to the task at hand. He was stiff. She was distracted. His blows were stiff, not anything else. Not that she could tell under the gear if anything had been. She grunted at the force of his fist against her side. She swiped his feet out from under him and he held up his hand in surrender. He remained on his knees shaking his head. Then stood removing his head padding.

            “I’m sorry.” He stepped back. “I meant to tell you during the fight and let you be the one distracted, but I’m not in this. And I know you’re going to say I’d be dead so it’s no excuse, but I feel like I’m just insulting you by letting myself be somewhere else.”

            “Acknowledged.” She stepped back and removed her mask too.

            “You’re not here either.” He pressed a small wall panel and took a long drink of the water that flowed from the protruding tube. “Good news always does make you suspicious.”

            Of course, he could have no idea what was really distracting her. She tried to remember if she’d ever taken advantage of a man his size. Of course not, she’d always sought out mates of compatible species that were at least comparable to her mass. It had been awhile. That was her problem. Had it been over a year? She never kept track. That kind of thing was always only as the opportunity presented itself. She had mated only once on her home planet of Parnosses. Only out of curiosity. She didn’t care for it, so until a few years ago she hadn’t tried again. She had made a few acquaintances that served the purpose for her. They didn’t know who she really was. They were large and burley and reminded her of the warriors she had commanded before escaping the retched place she had called home for so long.

Celibacy wasn’t a requirement of the First Order, but sexual relations between its members was. Or at least it was for all the officers under her command. What about superior officers? They wouldn’t be that foolish. She mirrored the smaller man as he sat on the floor with his back against the wall. He was nearly her age, but he looked much younger, a gift from her planet, she thought. His father was the oldest man she’d ever known and he had looked much younger than she had expected. The son was much more fit, thanks to her. She could break him if she wanted to. She could snap his bare body in half. She needed to be off this ship.

            “What?” He asked her for a second time in a half hour, again, she couldn’t exactly answer. She’d never even considered any man among the First Order officers robust enough to be a mate. Hux looked like a bare child and still she dwelled.

            “Are superior officers allowed to partake in relations with other First Order associates?”

            He glanced at the door and clenched his jaw stifling a smile. “You picked up on that?”

            _Picked up on what_? She wasn’t sure what he meant. He grinned at the top of the chamber. “And I thought we were so discreet. Not to worry. The princess knows it will be a year before we see each other again. Strictly speaking, such encounters need prior approval, but Snoke wasn’t disappointed with the result. Your perception never ceases to amaze me.”

            The pathetic bastard. Charm and smooth talking were his specialty. Put that in a position of power and he didn’t need to know how to fight. The irritating thing was that he wasn’t the initiator, it was always the females. The Dubvian Princess had eyed him at their first meeting months before, but it was rare he took full advantage of those situations. That renewed her focus.

            “ _Your_ diplomatic relations never cease to amaze me,” she forced an annoyed sigh, “How much longer are you going to put off the inevitable?” She said, indicating herself, and their unfinished fight. He huffed as he stood turning his head piece the correct direction before he could put it back on.

            “I’d much rather be locked between _your_ thighs naked than in armor.” He muttered. Her fierce glance gave him pause. He straightened. She gazed back at him steadily. It wasn’t often she had to acknowledge she was female, a fact she’d never resented. At most, she’d only been needlessly reminded and only rarely discriminated against for it. She mused that he’d be cold and small and she chuckled silently looking him up and down before sliding her face covering back on. Hux slid his mask back on quickly and steadied himself, he’d spoken foolishly, but he wasn’t about to go down easily.

            “Today, I’ll take that as a compliment.” The tone of her voice was rich and steady, “But just so you know, I’d crush you between them.” That was why Hux adored her, she was strong and domineering and she never gave in.

            That afternoon the man had the most points, the most well-placed punches and jabs and even a few incredible kicks, but he couldn’t keep her down. His final attempt was her triumph as he pivoted to pin her arm to the floor with his knee, and once again he’d misestimated just how far her arms could extend as she curled it around the back of his joint yanking him into a split position. She’d used him to swing against, and came around from the back, stepping on his ankle and grabbing him in a choke-hold. It didn’t matter how many hits the man had delivered. The woman had rendered him unable to proceed, yet again.

           

“Why do you play a game you can’t win?” The black masked figure mocked him as Hux entered the elevator.

            “I guess I’m just a glutton for punishment.”

That wasn’t true. Kylo Ren made no response. The General enjoyed the training he received. It invigorated him. Ren could relate to that. Though he had spent more time in other avenues collectively, physical excursion was a daily part of his routine, more than it was for the less robust man. Ren watched him go. The truth was he didn’t know if he could out power Hux fist to fist. He would never have to. Ren had a higher power he relied on to defend himself, one that was no match for Hux, or even Phasma.

            Kylo Ren hadn’t lost a fight in a long time. His knights had gained their positions by proving themselves as strong and capable as he was. Some of them had been the Supreme Leader’s guard for nearly two years. He had others of course, none as strong as the original few, he lamented. Not physically, but mentally. He had no problem letting the six men that guarded Snoke go to him. Only two were part of his original six, and they were now loyal to the First Order.

            Not that Snoke’s protégé wasn’t loyal to the First Order. Given the choice, he sought order within himself first, and to be left free to do so. He’d been considering just how free he was for some time now. Snoke had promised him knowledge and power to do as he pleased. Snoke preached order and wisdom. Kylo Ren’s thoughts wandered. Vader was never free. Did he ever long for more?

            Ren glanced at the mask that had once belonged to Anakin Skywalker as he passed through his personal chambers. He stopped just beyond and rested his hands on the edge of a window. Seeing his reflection in the glass, of his own mask, he unlatched it and dropped it to the floor with a heavy clank and glared back. He looked tired. He was exhausted. The constant balance of duty, the pursuit of power, and the quest for freedom was weighing on him. Especially since the latter needed to be kept to himself. That had proved difficult at the start. For the first several years it was impossible to keep anything from Snoke, but not anymore. There were too many things Snoke had to keep in balance and Kylo Ren had made a place inside himself that was free of his influence. It was there, only occasionally, he could reflect on possibilities other than what the Supreme Leader had in mind. He had to be careful, he had to make sure that anger shielded his other thoughts, now was not the time.

            The com inside his helmet beeped for his attention. He scooped it up reluctantly and spoke gruffly back, “What is it?”

            The voice on the other side was strong and clear, “I’m sending you some information we gathered on Captain Solo.”

            “Can you give me the short version right now?”

            “Uh, well. Solo is no longer in possession of the ship you inquired about, and hasn’t been for some time. He’s currently piloting a freighter and involved in some kind of Rathtar hunting scheme. Our source says he doesn’t think he’s had any contact with General Organa in years.”

            “Rathtars? Doing what with Rathtars?”

            “He’s looking to capture and transport some. Nothing important in any way. Our source says he hasn’t had contact with the Resistance for at least six years.”

            “And the Wookie?”

            “Um. The Wookie has visited his home world a handful of times. He has been known to supply both information and weaponry. Nothing major. Nothing that would suggest he was any kind of threat to the First Order.”

            “Thank you.” The man dropped his helmet again.

            His father was a lost fool. It was his nature to be so. Han Solo wasn’t the kind of man to think things through and foresee how his actions might make any kind of difference. That was his problem. All guts, no brains. Still he missed him. The way he threw tools around and cursed a little when he thought no one was paying attention. The way he couldn’t be insincere. He was so sure of himself even when he had no reason to be. As long as he was alive, Snoke reminded Ren of his failure to kill him once before. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t have killed his father, he didn’t want to harm The Millennium Falcon. It was stupid and childish, he knew now. But a decade ago entitlement had gotten the better of him. That wouldn’t happen a second time. They’d meet again. He’d have to kill him then, to prove himself to Snoke. His father was his weak link. He felt sorry for him. Han Solo had no ambition, he lacked vision. His father had held him back more than anyone. Not intentionally of course. Ignorantly as always. And now he was hunting Rathtars? Maybe he wouldn’t see his father again after all.

Kylo Ren looked beyond his own visage in the thick pane. Somewhere out there among the stars, something was calling to him. When he closed his eyes to sleep there was something. Something from a place of light. It unsettled him. He had driven himself as far from the light and from weakness as he could, but the bright spark of hope, of something more, and a future free of mandates had begun to haunt him. He had played his strengths and fortified any parts of himself that had not proved worthy. He had purged himself of the childishness of longing for home or anything like it. This something was foreign to him. When he was truly alone, it was there, and the clearer his mind was, the stronger the call. He had long dreamt of a someone, no name, no face. He pushed it back. There were things to be done. People to be found. Whatever it meant, he had been putting it in that place in his mind. That safe place. He wasn’t ready to let Snoke interpret it for him.

The Supreme Leader was powerful, but Ren could feel himself outgrowing him quickly. Once it had been enough for him to just get away from his family. Once he had been pleased to do Snoke’s bidding and nothing more. His Knights, the Knights of Ren, had once been his closest friends. They had taken an oath to him, been part of a cause. Sometimes he considered going after the ones who had fled, the missing three. No, he didn’t care for revenge. He longed for peace and order. More and more force sensitive beings were seeking a place with the First Order. Snoke was inviting them there, gathering them. For the most part they were untrained, undisciplined, pathetic, power hungry. He had trained eighteen more men, under the direction of Snoke, and they were on a mission. A mission to find Luke Skywalker. They wouldn’t find him. Some of them were exceptional force sensitives, but Luke was in hiding, from him, from Snoke, from the force.

Luke was the only thing left in the Galaxy Snoke feared. Luke was the only thing Snoke believed, was powerful enough to stop him. They had been combing every system in the Galaxy for years. Luke Skywalker wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. Kylo Ren was stubborn, but Luke Skywalker had trained him. “No one is as stubborn as a Skywalker.” Han used to say. He had no idea.

Ren took a deep breath and closed his eyes. They were due back at the rendezvous point to inspect Snoke’s new command ship in three weeks. If they had no delays, and if he pushed them a little, they could return earlier. Ren had no intention of returning early. If he planned things just right, they could pass by a beautiful moon not far from Bespin three days before they were set to. The troops that were on board could have a break. Spend a day on the green planet unbeknownst to anyone. Recharge. They were exceptional, they deserved a day to run in the grass and take a swim in unfiltered water.

Then, he and a few of the highest officers could go pick up their remaining crew and several diplomats on Cloud City as planned. But they would arrive early, take a day and night to relax, he’d give them a few hours of fun first. The morning after would proceed as scheduled, everyone would feel rejuvenated. They’d all been working too hard. Ren could feel the tenseness between the crew. He could sense the emotional fatigue of the soldiers. Even Phasma was not as engaged as she usually was. Only the idiot Hux who had just returned, very successfully, from recruiting the Duvbians to their cause, after years of attempts, was not in need of refreshment. He might feel entitled to a pat on the back, however. This was the only chance he could see before they all joined Snoke on an even larger piece of metal.

Ren often wondered if he would ever feel truly at home on a ship. He loved to fly, but that wasn’t the same thing as being contained on a starship. You could rarely feel a massive ship traveling through space. Even full of a thousand soldiers, ships felt empty. They didn’t have the same connectivity as a planet revolving on an axis did.

Ren was special, but like a unique starship, he was isolated. His job was to be there for Snoke, do what Snoke needed. In return Snoke had taught him to use his power and didn’t hold him back. Ever since Hux’s father mysteriously died, Hux had been too free, but as long as his moves pleased their Supreme Leader, Snoke didn’t seem to care. Then there was Phasma. She was the only person in the universe that even remotely worried or threatened Kylo. She was of a strong mind, and he knew all too well that she did as she pleased. Fortunately for General Hux it was what he wanted. That could change. She was the reason the older Hux had perished. Snoke had let it happen. Snoke only wanted the strongest to survive.

Occasionally Kylo Ren could read the thoughts of both Hux and Phasma, only when they were very troubled and unguarded. Hux had episodes of doubt and anger weekly. His mind would race and rush to cover his steps within until he’d found a solution and congratulate himself, something his father had never done, Ren figured. The young General had grown much in that area over the years, but his process was still the same. Kylo loved to hear his rival mentally scold himself. It was entertaining.

Then there was Phasma. He knew nothing of her origins except that she had fought for the right to live and won. That’s what Brendol Hux had told he and Snoke. Reading the schematics of her planet made him wonder how she had lived so long at all. She only spoke to ask questions or to relay information. Kylo could count the number of conversations they had had. He had seen her without her helmet twice. She was brilliant and strong and calculating. She was only with the First Order because she was content there. The one thing he could ever read from her mind were frustrated passing thoughts, but she was always quick to balance herself. She didn’t dwell, she made concise mental notes and went about her business. In truth, he’d modeled his own behavior after hers and it had served him well. She always appeared to be quietly indifferent. Every so often she’d mentally insult a well-deserving person, and she knew he could hear her. She didn’t care. She would be on his side if Hux hesitated at the idea, Ren thought.

Suddenly he was looking forward to their meeting and sitting through the task of hearing the weekly reports. He felt lighter just imagining them agreeing to the idea of pushing a little harder to gain a few day’s rest.


	2. On the Ship: Six months before the Completion of Starkiller

2

On the Ship: Six months before the Completion of Starkiller

 

“Harder! Faster! Harder! Faster!” Phasma yelled, running along beside the unit of troopers as they scaled the obstacles before them. Some of them were quite adept, some of them were lagging. “If you aren’t fast and strong, you’re dead. If you aren’t quick and focused, you lose!”

            “FL-5623 what is wrong with your feet? Pick them up and explain.”

            “Sorry Captain, we just came from security detail on Starkiller and it wasn’t this hard.”

            “Stop!!!” Phasma screamed, and the echo could be felt across the training arena. “What were you doing? Laying around?”

            “No Captain, just not jumping as much as we had been.”

            “Are there not cliffs and snow on Starkiller FL-5623?”

            “Yes Captain.”

            She looked around the room and observed that they had all come back less fit then they had been when they had left. “So, Captain Clayton did not ensure that you made use of this terrain for training purposes?”

            “No, Captain. He made us study the schematics and run.”

            “Oh. Run.” She said in a sarcastic clip. She turned and jumped up onto the nearest obstacle. “Excelling, is a decision you make!” She yelled to the room. “If you intend to not make it past your first mission, do only what your superior officers instruct you to. If you intend to shine, do more. Repeat after me: Faster! Harder! Faster! Harder! Faster! Harder! Faster! Harder! No get down on all fours and continue the exercise.”

 

That evening, as usual, the units who had performed the best were dismissed to the cafeteria first. Phasma watched as the first three units lined up. When General Hux came in, she joined him in line.

            “I heard you gave them a hard time today.” He smiled.

            “I need to look into what Clayton is doing on Starkiller. He appears to be allowing them to go soft.”

            “I’ll ask him for a full report we can review together.”

            “Please.” Phasma said, suddenly aware that the room was uncommonly quiet. The last trooper in front of her moved ahead and she could see that all the faces in the room were fixated to a point just past her on the wall. She stepped forward to examine what had captured everyone’s attention. It was a piece of paper with a cartoon drawn on it. The troopers still in line were craning to see. The cartoon depicted Phasma on all fours, wearing nothing but a helmet and her cape. Behind her knelt a General Hux, perspiring, in nothing but his officer’s coat. A Stormtrooper stood over him, blaster pointed at his head. The speech bubble came from Phasma’s helmet and read, ”Faster! Harder! Faster! Harder!”

            As the General saw it he remained still and glanced at her. She made no indication that she intended to move forward. So, he rotated his tray into his left hand, and reached out to take the little cartoon off the wall, holding it between them. No one moved. Even the line had become silent. Hux looked to her to speak first, if she didn’t say something they’d have won. Phasma turned to face the room.

            “I see someone agrees my instruction is perfect for every occasion.” Phasma said loudly. Half the room stifled snickers.

            “Though it would be you at blaster-point in this scenario surely.” Hux joked so everyone could hear.

            “And I would be on top.”

            “And I wouldn’t wear my coat.”

            “I’d still wear my helmet. Shame. Comedy is more amusing the more accurate it is.”

            Whispers and giggles rippled through the room.

            “You know what isn’t funny?” Hux’s tone had changed. “Disrespecting superior officers. If anything like this occurs again, disciplinary action will have to be taken.” Hux crumpled the paper and walked with Phasma up to his personal quarters to prepare for their weekly report to Snoke. The hallway was long and grey, like all the hallways, but despite that the ship had always looked the same, it looked duller to him in contrast to the beautiful Dubvian planet. He loved his job. He was at the top, well almost. Snoke recognized his talents, and that was enough for him.

Sometimes Hux did feel bad for Phasma. Being a woman was infinitely harder than being a man. Woman were criticized harshly, for no reason. Phasma was a threat, and she frequently found herself at the brunt of jokes. She was always quick to handle it. Fear was her friend. He was afraid of her. He respected her too much to allow her to be anything but the polished trophy she was. She represented everything the First Order stood for. She was a product of The First Order system, to promote those who possessed special abilities and the rest were left behind. Progress. She had come from a backwards world and thrived.

Phasma was the evolved Storm Trooper. If every one of his soldiers had the ambition and ferocity she had, The First Order would be unstoppable. They were excellently trained, he and Phasma had fine-tuned the program. Each successive unit was only getting better. For the most part, they were eager to please. He was surprised by this incident. The cartoon was funny to be sure, if it hadn’t been about him he might have even laughed out loud. Too much time on Starkiller indeed.

            “Do you know who it was?” He asked carefully.

            “No. But I’ve narrowed it down.”

            “What will you do?”

            “I haven’t decided.”

            “That kind of behavior can’t be tolerated. Has it happened before?”

            “Not with these units. I think someone had too much time on their hands recently.”

            That was why he appreciated her so much. When he was thinking something, she was on the same line. She never missed a beat, she followed his train of thought every time.

            Kylo Ren was waiting at the door when they came out of the elevator. “I hear there’s a rebel with a piece of carbon among us.”

            “Let’s not put undue attention where it isn’t deserved,” Phasma answered sharply.

            Hux knew he could never defeat Ren hand to hand, but it gave him a comforting gratification that he knew Phasma might be able to. With the proper weapons, even without the force, she could certainly do some damage. Hux resented Snoke for his special powers, and he resented Ren more for rising so quickly to Snoke’s side, just because of his. It was he who had helped build The First Order from nothing. He had watched it grow as he had grown up. Now it was all Snoke’s. As long as he could keep his position he would be loyal. He wouldn’t leave everything he had worked for because of a change in leadership. After all, in the entire Galaxy he answered directly to Snoke. So did Kylo Ren, and occasionally Phasma, but that was still impressive. He couldn’t wait to hear the reports of the day and give his. He was always disappointed when they were over, but tomorrow was another day. He loved seeing progress and stability. It wasn’t like Kylo Ren to be concerned much with the army, but his idea to finish their tasks early, intrigued him.

“I like the idea of proving ourselves even more capable and surprising him.” Hux was very pleased, “I wonder what the reward would be for returning three days early, substantial I’d wager. We can handle it.” Hux assured his dark counterpart.

            “What would we do three days ahead of schedule? I don’t think it’s worth risking pushing my soldiers just to please Snoke,” Phasma argued.

            Ren could feel the sun on his shoulders already and the gravity pulling on his body. “Well, what if we played smarter where it counts? Then use our extra time as a reward for them?”

            “What like a vacation? No one likes that much down time on a ship.” Hux scoffed.

            “What about on a moon?”

            “What moon?” Phasma asked, her tone unchanging.

            “A green temperate moon with sunshine and swimming holes.”

            Hux looked at Phasma as if he could see through her mask. He was considering the idea.

            “It would be a good rest for the men,” Hux said to her.

            Even though her tone didn’t change when she spoke, Ren could feel her excitement behind her armor, “I agree.”

           

            Two days passed until the next installment from the cartoon rebel. This time it was midday rations. She’d been waiting for it. She was the only superior officer present. The room was trying to ignore the piece of paper on the wall, but Phasma had been watching and waiting, and saw it before she reached the end of the line. She smiled when she saw it, she couldn’t wait to find its creator. This drawing depicted a terrified bare-bodied Hux, under a Phasma holding a spear above her head. The speech bubble from Hux’s head read, “I didn’t mean this kind of discipline!” General Hux and another training officer filed into the line. Phasma had not taken down the drawing. She set her tray down and walked from one end of the cafeteria to the other. It could only seat two-hundred at a time. The drawing had appeared when the FL units had entered. Not before, not after. The room was quieter, watching her.

            “This is a test of loyalty. There is a traitor among us. Troops. You will raise your hand if you know who the perpetrator is.”

            A few of the young soldiers in line raised their hands. All the troopers at one table, raised their hands. Some from their neighboring tables were raised. They kept their hands up straight and high as they had learned to do growing up in the Stormtrooper program.

            “That will do,” Phasma turned her attention to the table where unit FL-3 was eating. “Unit FL-3, stand, if you are willing to divulge the name of the traitor in your midst.” There was a slight pause. The sound of thought, is in fact, silence. All but five of the unit stood.

            “What a shame.” Phasma said, “FL-5623, FL-1002, FL-4567, FL-3900 and FL-2106, you have failed this exercise. Please stand. The rest of you may sit.”

            The room was still. There was a lesson to be learned. The five troopers who had not stood with the others, rose dutifully. Three of them were stone-faced. One young man appeared to be fighting back tears. The only female among the five, looked worried.

            “FL-5623, remove your gloves.” She ordered. He did so. She examined his hands, but did not find what she was looking for. “Now the rest of you.” She said calmly. They all obeyed simultaneously. Now there was one among them who looked more nervous than the rest.

            “FL-3900. Your right hand if you please.” She took the young man’s hand between her gloves, and finding what she had been searching for, she raised the arm high.

            “Behold. The stain of a would-be artist. Black carbon under the nail of the index finger. Now, this is not the act of a loyal First Order Stormtrooper. He must be removed.”

            Phasma made a quick motion with her hand to the troopers at the door. The young man’s face was defiant. The two troopers took him by the arms and escorted him out of the large common room. Those left behind were a mixture of emotions. Most of them had stopped eating. Phasma walked over to the paper on the wall and pulled it down abruptly, crunching it in her fist as she exited the eating place. She finished her meal alone in her room as she usually did midday. The two drawings weren’t unimpressive. The artist had clear talent, but there was no place for someone like him among her soldiers.

            Soldiers needed to be single-minded. They needed to have the goals of their leaders in mind. Leaders stood out as the ones who could inspire the rest to follow. This cartoonist was a rebel, which was a shame. His record was stellar. Not that she felt all her training had been wasted. But losses were a common thing in war, and they were at the beginning of a war. Casualties sometimes had to be taken.

            Phasma watched from a distance. The FL units were lined up on either side of the ramp to Kylo Ren’s transport. A unit of Storm Troopers was already aboard. Kylo Ren and four of his masked Knights boarded next. Then, finally, the main event.

            “Pleeaaase!” The trooper, sans armor, called out to Phasma as he was dragged passed her in cuffs toward the ship. “I swear it won’t happen again, ever!”

            “You were given a chance to conform. Farewell.” Phasma turned her back as the two troopers dragged him up the ramp by his arms. “Dismissed!” She ordered the FL units. They broke away flawlessly. It had worked even better than she had hoped. General Hux joined her at the entrance to the hangar.

            “That was a bit dramatic, don’t you think? Is he being terminated?”

            “I believe he thinks so,” Hux could hear her smile through her voice filter.

 

            “I’m loyal! It was meant as a joke. I’m loyal. I swear!”

“Stop it!” Kylo Ren ordered the hysteric soldier, his hood shrouded around his chrome accented helmet. The soldier was buckled in to a restraining rig at the back of the transport. “What is it exactly you think is happening to you?”

            The soldier’s face was wet with sweat and tears. He had vowed he would keep it together, but being dragged past his former friends, the men and woman he had been raised with, he hadn’t been able to restrain himself. He figured he was going to die anyway and had nothing left to lose. “I’m being terminated?”

            “Don’t you think that could have been done aboard The Finalizer?”

            The mask was so black, it was too dull for him to see his reflection in the visor. He could see lines of his pale face in the chrome accents when Kylo Ren tilted his head. “So, what are you going to do with me?”

            “I’m taking you to board The Supremacy, to see if you can prove yourself in another capacity. Of course, I’m happy to cut your trip short.” Kylo Ren placed his hand on the hilt of his lightsaber.

            “No, sir.” The surprised FL-3900 shook his head assuredly at the intense black form in front of him.

            “Excellent.”

 

The next two-and a half weeks went exactly as planned. Their first battle had taken only a day and had secured them the most praise they had ever received from their Supreme Leader. Ren had suggested they send Hux down to do the talking while he himself stood at the head of the army, sword blazing for an hour before they were set to engage. The locals had been so intimidated, that when it came time to do battle, to resist the trade deal the First Order proposed for their fibers, there was little the outer rim planet was willing to do to defend itself. Phasma had been the most amused by their first encounter and had to keep from laughing behind her mask as they signed the treaty after only four hours on the planet.

            Kylo Ren had said nothing until it was time to leave. The tall black masked figure could sense the trepidation of the planet’s alien leader. “You have nothing to worry about now. The First Order will ensure that your people are left to do what they do best. Commander Gow will remain on guard to oversee the transition and address your concerns. It’s better that you have certainty instead of facing the unknown.”

            The alien was taller and slenderer than the human masked man. He found the dark human scary. Though his mask and voice made him appear formidable, his words brought the cautious leader comfort. The alien took the gloved outstretched hand offered to him. A smile from the Commander mentioned, and the alien man was visibly at ease.

            As the visage masked in black, the red-headed general, and the shiny armored captain boarded the transport, Ren knew they had done well. He needed no approval from Snoke. They had gained two days already and he was beyond pleased.

            “A handshake and a smile, learn that from your father?”

            Hux’s remark was to Ren’s back. He stopped. Phasma had been thinking the same thing and stopped in step with Ren, a meter behind the snarky General. She might have been thinking it, but she was much wiser than to say it to the unpredictable force-wielding man. She envied his gifts, his special abilities. She envied his knowledge and understanding of everyone and everything. She was sworn to secrecy of his parentage, they all were, the few that knew who Kylo Ren truly was. For Hux to imply anything aloud was foolish, or insubordinate, but Hux didn’t answer to Ren. “What did you say?” The man that lead the three asked.

            “Nothing,” the general smiled in Phasma’s direction. He knew she was on his side. A comforting word was not the way of the First Order. A handshake was not a sign of friendship or warmth, it was the instrument of a deal. “Fool,” Phasma said to Hux’s back as they walked.

The black mask turned to look at the mask and pale face behind him. “Every leader of every system needs to sleep well at night knowing that they are part of the First Order, not lay awake wondering what might happen or worry over some unchecked item on their list of concerns. Fear is chaos in waiting. Trust demands respect. We need to maintain enough comfort to ensure control, and just enough fear to guarantee submission.”

            Hux was sobered, “I can’t disagree with that. “

            “We’re on the same side you idiot. Go speak to your troops.” Ren’s censure was palpable.

            Phasma watched him stomp away. He was young at heart, still tender somehow. He was powerful and unpredictable and wise at any given moment. His plan had been sound. So, even though she had been in sync with Hux’s train of thought, it was the less strategic track. She lacked the delicacy needed to be diplomatic. To her there was winning, and there was losing. They had won the day, but Ren had won that moment.

            “Smiles and handshakes,” Hux muttered as she followed him. Kylo Ren was the exception in their regime. He was an anomaly somehow. He operated with them, and around them, but he was not a part of them.

           

“Most excellent!” Snoke had laughed when Kylo Ren reported back after only half a day. He had many good words to say to Hux of his troops and their performance. As they pummeled through hyperspace Ren could feel the gases of Bespin against his fingers. It wouldn’t be long now. They could do this.

Not everything went exactly as planned, but every task was completed. Every battle won. Not only that, the senate was divided against General Organa’s cause two to one. Ren smiled to himself. She was wasting resources fueling a fight she couldn’t win. He was showing the Galaxy how they could be productive again, one system at a time. True, it wasn’t without the occasional lesson in his fighter. His skills were unmatched. His power unchallenged. He had chosen the optimum way to become his best. It was Snoke, not Luke, who had lead him here. It was Snoke, not Luke, who had driven him to this point. A few casualties were nothing if it meant the entire Galaxy could exist in harmony once again, everyone able to get what they needed, everyone having what they deserved.

           

“We can’t just stop and take a break now!” Hux argued to Ren’s unmasked face.

            “You can’t deny the army is strained. Ask Phasma.”

            The chrome woman had been attempting to play the neutral party. Hux didn’t want to waste time after all, not when his tasks were complete, he couldn’t wait to show off to Snoke. Kylo Ren and Phasma, however, did not care as much about such things.

            “You’ve been entertained by the highest of society at intervals. The Stormtroopers, these newest units, haven’t had more than a few hours of recreation in months.” Phasma explained.

            “The great warrior concedes? If we arrive at Snoke’s doorstep three days early he will be very appreciative.”

            “We can’t even reach him until two nights from today and you know it. You truly believe he’d be happy to have us sneak up on him before he’s even had a chance to check up on us?”

            Hux’s eyes darted in place back and forth as he thought.

            “The troops can handle the schedule without a break, but they’ll excel if rewarded like this. As much as I hate to admit it. Under their armor, they’re just men. Ren is right.”

            “Fine.” Hux gave in. “Not because I like the idea, but because I believe Captain Phasma has a point. I’d rather have them in peek condition going forward. I don’t know how you managed this. I thought you meant a civilized moon someplace known, not an outer rim world with no amenities,” He looked to the pleased face of Snoke’s apprentice. “It all falls to you if anything is amiss.”

Ren smiled smugly.

            “We’ll call this a survival training exercise if anyone asks.”


	3. Secluded: Five and Half Months before the Completion of Starkiller

3

Secluded: Five and Half Months before the Completion of Starkiller

 

Phasma addressed the soldiers on board their ship all at once. “General Hux, Ren on behalf of Leader Snoke, and I, all feel you’ve performed exceptionally. Your mission from General Hux is simple: Set up camp, relax, and enjoy the next forty-eight hours.”

            The soldiers immediately broke into a kind of hushed, ecstatic disbelief. They murmured to each other and nudged their fellows jovially.

            “Your mission begins now, we arrive in one hour.” Phasma smiled beneath her mask.

            “I didn’t approve that message,” Hux’s reproach to Ren was said as quietly as possible.

            “I did.” Ren was careful not to let himself smile on the outside.

            As the soldiers were dismissed one company at a time they gave salutes in the General’s direction so enthusiastically that he couldn’t keep a grin from sliding across his face.

            “See, look how happy they are. They almost like you.” Kylo Ren dismissed himself but Armitage Hux didn’t let the backhanded compliment keep him from enjoying the lightheartedness of the moment. He was sure Ren was up to something, but it remained to be seen how he would benefit from the situation.

 

The planet was sparsely populated by a native humanoid-like species. They could easily be mistaken for short humans if it weren’t for their long thin tails and the thin whisker-like hair that grew from their cheeks. No one person ruled the planet. They were hospitable and soft-spoken. Towns and provinces ruled by genteel leaders, some elected, some self-proclaimed, were the only obstacles Ren had overcome to mark the small moon as First Order territory. The planet was host to varied travelers in the outer rim, not many even knew of its existence. It had few resources a power like the First Order would have been interested in, it lacked representation in the Senate. It was a place from Ren’s past.

            Once, a former smuggler, a former princess and their son had visited the place for an entire week. It was quiet, no one knew who they were. It was one of the best memories Kylo Ren had. It was a memory he kept hidden. He never forgot a place. The people of the planet now spoke basic. Many of the local girls greeted the soldiers with shy smiles, and the boys stood back admiring the view of trained men setting up camp. There were hidden rivers beneath clumps of trees, and small lakes in almost every direction. Something about the place made Kylo Ren feel at ease. Something about the sky and the ground spoke to him. He hadn’t been there in over a year. It was far away from any of the work he had done for Snoke in years.

            “Well isn’t this quaint?” Hux mused at their view as they descended the platform.

            “It smells like grass and sunshine.” Phasma breathed in deeply. Appreciating the un-bottled oxygen, even through her mask.

            “Sunshine?” Hux scoffed.

            “Yes, it does.” Ren said, shoving Hux aside. A trooper brought Ren’s speeder to the base of the ramp and hopped off dutifully. Ren took one more deep breathe. His droid hovered behind him, holding his helmet. They didn’t see the little droid often. The great Kylo Ren needed no assistance. On this occasion Hux was especially resentful of its presence. It meant Ren had made everything appear to have a singular purpose when the benefit was the greatest to himself.

The droid was only as large as the top of an old astromech, fitted with three arms that hung down to do its work. The head was the head of a mechanical droid, the large lens had an almost adorable quality. Looks were deceiving. Both Phasma and Hux knew that the droid was always on high alert. It possessed a large databank of information that was always being updated. It performed more functions than any standard droid could, both mechanical and personal. It spoke in a different dialect that was hard to understand, and at times, Hux was sure it wasn’t meant for anyone else to understand at all. Phasma’s armor was constructed of the same material as the body of the droid, it was lightweight, strong, and impervious to everything. There was at least one taser, two guns and a flamethrower that she had seen the droid employ. Not only that, she had seen the droid pick up weapons from others and utilize them. Its mechanical hands adept at pulling triggers and changing cartridges.

Phasma and Hux exchanged a look as Kylo Ren took his helmet from the sleek black little monster and secured it in place. The droid set down on the back of the speeder and dropped its head in standby mode.

“I’ll be back at the appointed time,” The figure on the speeder said before he engaged the controls. Then, in a fluid motion, the machine beneath him started and zipped away. The mysterious man was nothing but a dot in the distance before either of them could respond.

“What is he up to?” Phasma assumed Hux had any idea.

“Who cares? He’s gone,” Hux shot back, but he did care, and there was little he could do about it.

 

Kylo Ren’s speeder was the fastest anyone had ever seen. The average speeder could only reach top speeds half that of the one he could command. One needed something special to drive that fast. He possessed it, the Force. Everything had fallen into place and two of his knights had contacted him only the day before to meet up. He had chosen the place and time. They had found something.

            Arriving at the place in no time at all, he dismounted and practically threw off his helmet. The droid followed and began a perimeter check. Ren’s clothes came off as fast as he could walk down to the small body of water. When he was relieved of the last article he strode into the water forcefully and took great pleasure in the cool liquid. The water on the planet was strange. He couldn’t explain it. He felt it had something to do with the force, it was denser. It made larger drops when it dripped. It felt thick and creamy through fingers and toes. In the dead of winter, it froze in odd viscous sheets that melted quickly when touched. The water was the same temperature all year round.

He swam back and forth under the surface a dozen times. He opened his mouth letting the thick delicious foreign water satisfy his thirst. He floated on the surface letting the sun warm his chest. He missed gravity and water and rocks and trees and clouds. He even missed dirt and the smell of grass and the wind in his hair. He had set foot on two other planets in recent weeks, but not like this. Before that it had been only space and one large frozen planet with grim skies. A flying insect buzzed against his ear and he slapped it away in disdain. He hated bugs. No, he thought. He’d take the insects if it meant he had sunshine with them.

He dove to the bottom of the pond and strived to remain as still as he could. Through parted eyes the beams of sun danced through the water above him. His arms and legs splayed, he let the water keep him pressed there, the plants tickling his back. His dark hair swayed around his head and it was as if he could feel every strand dancing away from his head.

There was only him.

Then there was her. It was here he had first seen her, briefly, he thought she had been real, but it was only a vision. He was too young then to know the difference between a dream and a message from the force. The woman stood as she always did, just above him, just ahead of him. She was important. She was always white, bright white. So brilliant that she was hard to look at. He could feel her power, feel the light within her. The flash of pale blue, purple, red – white still. It was the white that stayed. She reached to touch him and her hand was cool like the water and she started up the mountain like she always did. And he was always just behind her like he always had been. He couldn’t catch up. He was always stuck and she always moved away slowly and he could never catch up. “LET GO!” Luke’s voice rang out in his head and he struggled to make it to the top of the water before he needed another breath.

Fortunately, no one was around to see the pathetic sloshing of water he had just created. Droid flew over his head scanning his vitals before retreating to shore. Useless Luke! He cursed him in his mind. His words chose the most inopportune moments to push into his conciuosness. Let go of what? He’d let go of everything.

What if he didn’t take her hand? The cold water had begun to give him a chill, he hurried for shore picking up only his black briefs as he dropped to the ground in the long warm grass beneath the sun. Afraid to let go of the familiar vision of the girl he closed his eyes and breathed evenly. It was different with the light against his eyelids. He couldn’t make out the shapes as easily. He willed to see further. Everything went dark. The place was rough and dark and he couldn’t see past the place where she stood. Her power was directed at him, it was almost too much and he took a step back. She once again reached out her hand. This time it was different. He had never kept his hand from her grasp.

Above he could see the stars, bright and full, they filled the sky. Her countenance glowed at him, pleading. It was as if she was trying to say something. The ground beneath him was open and he felt like he might fall, but her steadiness seemed to hold him there. The mountain came into view behind her. She extended her hand in earnest. Reluctantly he took it once again but instead of following her, he stopped. She turned to face him and he let go. She was angry. He could feel the strength of her force as she lingered and circled around him. He looked back, he had never done that before, it was a very long way down. Once again, she reached out her hand. The path she was on, the path he too was following, was worn. Squinting past her blinding visage he saw another way, it was steeper, and taller and rough beneath his feet as he stepped. She was stronger than he was and she demanded something. She reached out her hand one more time and stepped closer. He had never been this close. Her light engulfed him and he felt something he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Peace. It took all his strength not to take her hand. He looked to his new path once again. “Ben!” The sound of her voice, a voice he’d never heard, sliced through him. She was gone.

Two forms stood over him, casting shadows across his body. “What did you call me?” Ren said harshly.

The slightly shorter of the two furrowed his brows at the other, “Ren?”

“Are you sure?” Kylo Ren pulled himself into a sitting position letting his eyes adjust once again to daylight.

            “Kylo?” The taller man asked, ”Are you okay?”

            “I didn’t feel you approach. Impressive.”

            The shorter knight offered him a hand up, “We learned from the best.”

            “I’ve never been here before,” The taller younger man looked around eagerly.

            “It’s beautiful. Did Hux lose his mind?”

            Kylo Ren shot his man a look that made him instantly feel a little foolish.

            “Of course, it was your idea to come here.”

            Ren took the cloth his droid handed him and wiped off the grass bits and dirt. The two men followed him to the rock the droid had placed his clothes on, leaving him some space.

            The shorter Knight was Yed Haz and had joined Ren shortly after he began training with Snoke. He was a year or two older than his mentor, not as strong. Who was? And was fericely loyal. He doubted himself a little too often, Ren thought, but he was capable. He’d come from a Senator’s home and they had the most in common of anyone he knew. Not that they ever really talked about their upbringing anymore. They left everything behind and never looked back. Haz believed in the First Order. Like Kylo himself, he saw that the Galaxy needed more intervention than the Republic believed. He wasn’t quite six feet tall and had a thicker frame than his comrades, but he was strong and fast. Haz never hesitated to act when the moment came. He had hair as dark as Kylo’s, darker skin, and a scar that started partly into his hair above his right ear that came down under his chin. His right ear was just a piece left from the fight Ren won, only months after they met. Haz hand underestimated him, a mistake he had never made again. Kylo Ren was not the strongest fighter, he was not nearly the most agile, his technique was non-existant, but what he lacked in actual skill he made up for in acute anticipation and brutal force. Anyone watching him fight would assume they could beat him, wrongly.

            The other man was two inches above Haz, but still not as tall as his master. His eyes were an eerie green and his skin had an alien orangish hue that accentuated them even more. His hair was plain brown, almost too dull for his face. He didn’t look unlike Ren in his armor and even had a similar gate. His name was Weexeg Natallalia. Not all the way alien or human, unsure of his exact heritage. He was the youngest among them. They called him Weex, every other variant of his name was just too hard to say quickly. Ren knew Weex was the smartest. He depended on him for that. He was slightly too optimistic, but a realist. They had found Weex in the republic penetentary, a place he had frequented for the rations, when he was only sixteen. Now he was twenty-one, and Ren knew Weex was only loyal to him. Weex cared little for Snoke, and being above any kind of law in his own mind, he thought the goals of the First Order were lofty.

            He had however, two weaknesses: A strange admiration for Captain Phasma, and a special interest in Luke Skywalker. The latter was why they were there. Weex handed over his halo pad so that Ren could watch the feed. It looked like Luke, running away through a crowd, a man pursuing him.

            “Where is this from?” He watched the footage several more times, examining it carefully.

            “A droid on Tatooine a few years ago,” Weex took the pad back and pulled up another screen. “This is the guy it belonged too.”

            The man had Mirialan marks on his face across his forehead and chin. Nothing else would set him apart in appearance. Average height and build, brown hair and eyes and medium toned human-looking skin.

            “The man pursuing Luke… Why?” Ren wanted to know.

            “More like hunting him. Because Luke lost his son at his Jedi Academy.”

            “Well he didn’t catch him.” Kylo was sure. He knew Luke was still alive.

            “No. But he’s tracked him far. Gave what he knew to someone working on Luke’s location. Trained by a Mirialan Jedi. Wields two sabers. Works as a bounty hunter. Also, we heard he’s a first Order sympathizer and still wants revenge on Luke.”

            “What do you know?”

            “That there is someone on Cloud City who knows how to find him. A female bartender. Supposedly, if you want to get in touch with him, you have to go through her. Do you want us to go?”

            “Yes. I’ll meet you tomorrow. Upload everything you have to the droid. Good work.”

            “Thanks, is there anything else you need?”

            “A little exercise maybe?” Ren flashed Haz a crooked smile. Haz laughed and drew his saber to meet Kylo’s red spitting blade. They fought back and forth for awhile before Weex cut in.

            “You’ve improved. Your strikes are much more intense,” Their leader complimented his youngest apprentice.

            “I hope Phasma notices.”

            “You’re not still on that.”

            “How is she? She looks great from a distance.”

            Kylo Ren seemed to think he’d find an explanation in Haz and sent him a look.

            “Hey!” Haz threw out his hands, “You think I haven’t tried to tell him how ridiculous it is? Wiat until you see what he got her.”

            “I told you I wanted to ask him myself!” Weex ran at Haz faster than he was ready for and Haz had to manuveur around a tree before he got his footing and could strike back at his young friend.

            “I didn’t spoil anything!” Haz objected.

            “I ordered you to focus and stop it with the Phasma nonsense. She’s the only person that poses a threat to any of us and you know it.”

            The two more experienced men made an effort to overcome Weex with no success. He jumped high into the trees and spoke to them from within the maroonish leaves, only his occasional footwork to the next set of branches gave his position away. His two foes struggled to spot him from the ground, finding it both amusing and a challenge.

            “C’mon, it’s just a little something I picked up on Couracent. I just want you to tell me how she reacts when she sees it.”

            “I’m not giving Phasma a present from you Weex. She’s old enough to be your mother.” Kylo Ren swung his saber at the branches where Weex’s voice had last been. Weex’s voice sounded from the opposite direction behind them and Ren smiled at the young man’s new skill.

            “Only on primitive planets. She’s still young enough to bare my children!” He fired back, “Please Ren? You don’t have to tell her it was me. Tell her it’s a gift from Snoke.”

            Ren winked at Haz and jumped silently into a tree near Weex.

            “I’ll make you a deal. If you touch the ground first, you have to deliver it to her. If I touch the ground first I’ll hand it to her myself and watch her open it for you.” Haz warned Ren with a look, and he brushed him off. Ren listened to the branches around him. He was surprised at how silent the leaves were. He attempted to sense Weex but could only feel that he was somewhere directly above. The birds nearby were comfortable chirping again the forest was so tranquil. A tiny stick dropped nearby. An eight-legged lizard crawled slowly near Ren’s hand on the largest branch of the tree.

This was why the force was so superior. No mortal man could track a trained force sensitive. Weex had made strides to upgrade his skills in recent months. Weex had improved without him, he might even surpass Ren with extra training from Snoke. Ren’s place was not secure, a cursory thought. Phasma, he grinned within himself and followed the thought to the invisible figure in the tree, and there was Weex coming down on his right and his blade shot out to meet his but Weex came head first and Kylo leaned forward instead of backward and the limb he had stood on severed between their blades. Weex had the trunk to brace himself on as Ren dropped backward and Weex followed his blade to the ground. There they were, Ren holding his blade up with his right arm against the double fisted grip of Weex standing perpendicular against the trunk of the tree. All the force of gravity on his side as Kylo’s left hand stretched out beneath him, the only thing keeping him hovering from the dirt a mere foot below. Ren knew exactly what to do. He retracted his saber and dodged the path of the man above him. It was the wrong move. Unlike himself, Weex was light of foot and his fall turned into a speedy flip which he landed against the large roots of the tree, backing up the trunk once again, igniting his saber as Kylo Ren was forced to spin away and land clumsily with one foot planted squarely on the ground.

            “Well done,” Ren compelled himself to say.

            Weex was pleased with himself and flipped effortlessly to the ground in front of him.

            “It’s all he does,” Haz revealed. “Hopping around in trees. He’s been working on it for months. It’s like he’s-“

            “Invisible. It’s force cloak at its finest.” Ren was still visibly perturbed to have been beaten. Haz looked confused.

            “You taught him that?”

            “He told me it was possible anyway,” Weex proclaimed proudly.

            “You never told me,” Haz seemed let down.

            “You never asked,” Ren said dismissively. “I should be getting back. You two should relax a little, take a swim. Meet me on Cloud City tomorrow morning.”

            “What about my package?” Weex reminded him, running into the trees for the parcel he had placed near a rock for safe-keeping.

            “I was hoping you’d forget,” Ren sighed, taking it in his hands. “Why?”

            “Are you kidding?” Weex straightened, “Haven’t you ever met someone so raw and powerful it actually scared you a little? Like, you see that if you could get them to care about your existence for one second, you would have achieved something? She terrifies me, in the best way. I don’t want to settle for anything, I want to be awakened – you know?”

            Ren looked hard at the face of the young man. He was a trained killer, but he was still a child.

            “I’m going to beg Snoke to wipe your memory of this,” Haz punched him in the shoulder and Weex shoved him back slightly. Weex’s words were nothing but that of a love-sick boy, but he wasn’t wrong. As Ren stood there in the trees he could see the mountain again, and the powerful blazing white figure calling him to the light, forming his old name against her lips. He pushed the girl deep, deep within his mind. He had things to do. Standing there in the trees he let the pleasures of the previous hour be buried as well. He couldn’t always be alone, he couldn’t always be where he wanted, when he wanted.

            “I do.” He finally said to Weex.

            The other two men jumped into the cool water. Ren settled himself down again in the grass, this time in the shade of the trees.

            Once upon a time he was a lonely little boy. Now he was a lonely man. He’d figured out how not to need anyone. He could only count on himself. Once upon a time he had put all his faith in his hero, his uncle. He thought if anyone could save him, could help him push out the darkness he was so familiar with, it was Luke.

            Luke Skywalker had once stood in the same room as Darth Vader and Darth Sidious. They had begged him to join them, and he had tossed his saber away.

            “Why?” his little nephew had asked. “How did you know you wouldn’t die?”

            “I didn’t. But I knew if I joined them, I couldn’t live with myself.”

            Ren was living just fine. He was more powerful than Luke could ever have helped him become. He was respected and feared. He could command armies. He wasn’t limited by the ideals of an ancient religion afraid to embrace some of the most incredible abilities known to the Galaxy. So what if he’d had to kill a few villages here and there to make a point? He’d done what he had to do to be free, to gain knowledge. He had learned more with Snoke in the months following his escape from Luke’s temple than he had in his whole lifetime before that. His grandfather had been calling to him, he had thought. He had been afraid to answer.

            Ren had been training with Luke for a few years to become a Jedi when he realized how afraid Luke was to explore the force. He was a typical Jedi, clinging to the light as if darkness didn’t exist. Kylo Ren had long known the power of anger and resentment. As a child, he had everything available to him and nothing that meant anything to him. His mother’s career had come first. She thought he was clever and talented, but she didn’t know him. If it weren’t for his grandfather’s voice, always telling him he could be more, he never would have been brave enough to leave. It was so ironic to have had a mother who wasn’t as interested in her own son as she was in her political friends. Ren had known of his abilities long before he told her. His father made him afraid to tell, but when his only friend died, because of Leia, he didn’t care anymore.

            If his friend Vera had lived she would surely be in high command by now. She was tough and smart. Vera had made him feel like he mattered. She had made him see that it was easier not to lean on his parents, or need them. They had spent hours playing and fighting and scheming. She was all he had. Luke had gone back into hiding and Vera kept Ren sane. Ren had spent every day with her one summer. He guessed he loved her more than anyone. She cared about him. She was there. Her mother was a lovely woman and always welcomed him in for snacks and sometimes dinner. Everyone knew who he was then. He couldn’t go anywhere that someone didn’t say something about his parents. It was the worst. Now it was the same, only no one knew him really. He smiled to himself. He had escaped. He was not about to become their little protégé. He was never going to fight for them when they hadn’t been there for him.

            This time when he closed his eyes the figure opened her hand and it was Vera Tarkin. She would have been beautiful. He took her hand and it was like he could feel her there with him. She was strong and present. He tried to imagine what she would look like in detail, but something strange happened. He heard a voice. An angry voice, it wasn’t his mother. His eyes popped open. He listened closely to the sound of his two men splashing back and forth. The forest was chattering quietly. Something came very close to hitting his face and he caught the figure in his arms. He thought. He stood up looking around.

            “Grandfather?” He said aloud, as if speaking would make the strange imagination become more real. No answer. He shook away the feeling of being somewhere else. He needed to be more focused. The trouble with the darkness was simple, what if he wasn’t feeling particularly passionate that day? Snoke said he wielded both the darkness and the light, but some days he hardly felt connected at all. He sat again and cleared his mind. He took his time reflecting. His mother’s face went before him and he didn’t brush it away. She thought he’d been led away, but he had run. It had been her own father who had led him there. She wouldn’t understand that.

            It was time for him to go and he signaled a goodbye to his Knights.

            _Why did he insist on still coming to this place?_ He thought, as he sped back to the transport that would take him far out into cold nothing once again. Some days the contrast between pleasure and resentment was strong. He let it go. He had to. There were things to accomplish. He could let himself find the vision of the girl when the Galaxy was in order. He was the only one capable of finding Luke Skywalker. He was the only one who understood the need for order in the Galaxy by making sacrifices.  He was the only one who had been on both sides, seen both sides first hand. He would do what Vader could not, he would break free and bring balance.

He could have easily defeated Weex if it were a matter of life and death. Death was not a problem for him. Striking down those who stood in his way was not difficult. A leader had to make hard choices. A leader had to direct and put things in place. A leader had to channel power appropriately. A leader had to take risks and responsibility. A leader is patient and smart. A leader makes decisions. A leader can see things differently than the rest. Some people are born to be leaders. Some people are made into leaders. Some people are both.


	4. Masks: Five Months Before the Completion of Starkiller

4

Masks: Five Months Before the Completion of Starkiller

 

As Kylo Ren approached the officers’ transport he didn’t see General Hux or Captain Phasma. A Lieutenant ventured toward him quickly and stood at attention until Ren gestured for him to speak.

            “General Hux and a few of the other officers are that direction. Camp is set up. They will be ready to leave as requested.”

            “Thank you. At ease.”

            The Lieutenant nodded and walked off briskly, unburdened now that his message had been relayed. Ren surveyed the area with a smile, he couldn’t help it. He could hear laughing echoing from the banks of a hidden river to the north. Their pop-up tents were secured in neat rows behind the transports to the west. Men were tossing balls and Frisbee-like things meant for recreation and sport. Some soldiers were having target practice to the south of camp, facing east, the direction from which he’d come. There was shouting and splashing and tumbling in the grass here and there. There were hard things to be done in the next few months, this would serve them well.

            He took his speeder in the direction the Lieutenant had indicated, southwest. A quarter mile through the trees he came upon a clearing with a small lake, similar to the one he had just been in far away. Uniforms hung perfectly against trees, waiting for their owners to return, some were incomplete. The bunch in the water began cheering, “Riifa, Riifa, Riifa!” Someone fired a blast into the air and the two swimmers raced to the other side. Hux raised his arms high in the air and they all groaned, then scattered laughs and cheers, “It’s his fifth race and he’s still beating us!”

            “One more, one more!” They chanted. Hux was breathing hard and nodded. Seeing Kylo Ren sitting on his speeder he motioned and said something quietly to the nearest officer before walking around to the edge of the trees to meet him.

            “Finish your business here?” Hux sneered slicking his hair back.

            “Yes. Where’s Captain Phasma?”

            “I don’t know, she lead the women officers in that direction awhile ago. Said not to follow and that she’d meet us on time.”

            “Very well. I’ll see you back there then.”

 

Phasma was a woman, but she never felt like other women. At least, she thought she didn’t. Growing up she had always understood men much better. They were straight forward and reasonable. Women had a lot more emotions. They cared too much most of the time in her opinion. Being too sensitive meant you’d die young where she came from. Her harsh world allowed for only the strongest to survive. That was how she had joined The First Order. She knew what she wanted, and she went after it.

            She had more in common with the women in the First Order than any other women. To make it there you had to be smart, resourceful and capable of putting personal feelings aside. When Phasma was younger she had lead her clan’s warriors. She had taught them to fight and trusted them with her life. At night, they slept together in hammocks to stay dry off the ground. She missed that sometimes. She wasn’t the type to long for human touch, but it was nice to be reminded that she was connected to something. It was also a lot more trouble than it was worth. Keeping people safe was difficult. It was hard to want to enable weaker members of her clan. The First Order demanded strength. If you couldn’t or wouldn’t compete, you were out. In The First Order you knew where you stood. There were games of power from time to time among officers looking to jump ahead. She smiled when she thought about Hux senior. How sure of himself he was, how comfortable. He had disappeared into nothing and there wasn’t a thing he could or would do to stop her. She had that in common with Armitage, but not with Kylo Ren. His family lived on without him, parallel to each other, on opposite sides of a fight she didn’t see how they could win.

            The First Order was under the direction of Supreme Leader Snoke. He wielded the force. Phasma had read all she could on the subject but still felt it was hard to believe. Sometimes she was resentful that there was a weapon she could not master, something within Kylo Ren that gave him the automatic upper hand. It hardly seemed fair, but if life had taught her anything it was that things were the way they were, and that if you tried hard enough and fought hard enough, you could make things fair. The way Brendol Hux looked at his son had disgusted her. It was as if he gave Armitage a hard time just because he was his own flesh and blood. She had leveled, no, dominated that playing field. No one had questioned Armitage Hux’s position. Snoke had relished his father’s demise, claiming that only the supreme were meant to survive.

            It had been Phasma’s and General Hux’s victory, not Snoke’s. She was special, talented, and unwilling to let anyone get in her way. She enjoyed her job. She liked being on posters. She was to be admired, her skills were unmatched. At least among the officers of the First Order. Some of the soldiers she had trained over the years had become better warriors than herself. There weren’t many, but they had done The Order proud. She had lead The First Order to victory after victory. She wondered how long that would last. She was still in her prime, but she wouldn’t be forever.

            The women who had wanted to swim had followed her excitedly and splashed around like a band of little girls. There were only about twenty of them all together. They had watched Phasma take off her mask closely. They had done a much better job hiding whatever their opinions were than any man could. Many of them had never seen her without her mask. Occasionally she showered along with her soldiers to show solidarity. It helped that she was pretty. She’d never thought much about this. Growing up there were no mirrors, and the water was too choppy for her to ever have had long looks at herself. Now she had a mirror in her personal refresher. She had a symmetrical face. Her nose was still relatively straight for having been broken a handful of times. She had large blue eyes, pinkish plump lips and golden curly hair. She kept her hair only as long as her earlobes. She liked her hair. Not very many other humans had her color hair, not even on her home planet. She liked that it was a bit untamed. She slicked it back under her helmet, but no one would know. All the women had followed her to swim, and now they’d see.

            Water still made her uneasy. It was unpredictable and cold. She had lead the female officers to a comfortable swimming hole, with the help of a local girl who asked her dozens of questions. She kept her answers as brief as possible, hoping to deter her. Finally, officer Xuzt had practically pulled the girl to her side away from Phasma. Phasma liked Xuzt. She always knew what was going on in a room. She never said unnecessary things. Phasma had learned to swim in The First Order training program. It was not her favorite activity. She felt somehow that water was just waiting to betray her. Better water than sand.

Most of the women gathered in clusters to talk. A few of them raced around the pond. Phasma let herself drift.

“Did you hear she’s engaged?” A tall dark haired young woman asked her friends.

“How is that going to work? She’ll never see her husband!”

“I’m never going to get married.”

“I think it would be nice to be married, I’d even have kids and put them in the Stormtrooper program, they’d be so cute.”

“What would your kids look like?”

“General Hux of course!”

Phasma had to interject. “Why would you want to mate with General Hux?”

The girls were so surprised that Phasma had spoken to them, and that she was listening that they were speechless for a few seconds. 

“Sorry, Captain. Just a little joke I would never actually…”

“Don’t lie to the Captain 76. She likes his hair, and his face, and the way he walks, and the way he talks, and orders everyone around.”

“2453 Stop!”

“Relax troopers,” Phasma said evenly, “I’m no stranger to the whims of the young. I just find it odd for you to choose such a gangly fellow to admire.”

The women giggled and shoved their friend a little in jest.

“It’s not him as much as the idea of him. Just a silly game. I’m devoted to the First Order. I’d follow the General anywhere. You must get to talk to him all the time.”

A quirky smile tilted against one of her cheeks, “Yes, we discuss daily reports and schedules. I’m privy to the movements of our armies as only he can put things. He relies on me to keep things running but we don’t prattle nonsense.”

“Apologies Captain. I just thought maybe you knew what he liked. Just curious.”

“Uniformity, precision, obedience. That’s what we deliver, that’s what he appreciates.”

“See. I told you they don’t hang out after hours swapping anecdotes.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. We have a working relationship. We perform different functions. He drinks vintage whiskey like his father. I’ve never seen him wear anything but black. He thinks my armor is unnecessary. Does that satisfy?”

“I told you he’d drink whiskey. All the old Generals do. He’s an old soul.”

Phasma rolled her eyes and back stroked out of range of the young trooper’s conversation. They were fighters. Trained soldiers, talking about nonsense. No doubt the young men were fantasizing about their female counterparts at the same moment only a grove of trees away. She had never appreciated that kind of aimless speculation. Crushes had evaded her, thankfully. If there was something she liked, she went after it, she was rarely unsuccessful. In that way, she and Hux were alike. She had always had to be indirect in her desires, either for power, or position, or even her opinions. Not with General Hux, he asked direct questions and expected direct answers, and he had always valued her opinion. It had not been that way for her growing up. Only fear of her strength had demanded respect then, since she had joined the First Order, she had found value and privilege and prestige.

Phasma swam back and forth in the cool water. She had few regrets, but one of her fears, perhaps her only fear, was that a person from her past could surface and prove that she wasn’t really one of Hux’s soldiers, that she was adopted in, self-made.

It was a mistake for her to show her face here. Or was it? It was probably a relief to her woman warriors. It was their secret to keep. Would anyone even believe if they told that Captain Phasma was decent looking? That she wasn’t a scarred disfigured monster beneath her perfect chrome? She liked being thought of as a monster, as a force to be feared. She dressed again quickly. She had her share of small scars, most of them were from before her time with the First Order. As she walked back to the small transport that would take them to Cloud City, she mused that anyone who came upon her in the forest would be instantly unsettled by her reflective appearance. She had never imagined anything like the ship that crashed on her home planet. It was perfect and clean. She had used the material better.

Oh, her retched home planet!

The day she thought she killed Captain Cardinal, on Hux’s command, his body had disappeared. He had been aided by a captive rebel spy who escaped. Phasma had tracked the little rebel ship as far as her home planet, but being a day behind, she had not arrived in time.

The little spy had been after someone. Someone Phasma had helped to create. A friend from the beginning, a swift ally and fighter and one of her first and best warriors. Her name was Siv, and when Brendol Hux had not wanted to take her with them, Phasma had reasoned that Siv was too caring a person to be happy with the First Order. Phasma often used Siv’s name as an alias. She considered Siv to be more feminine than she was and she knew Siv had tried to conceive multiple times. Gender was such an inconvenient truth sometimes. She knew the only way Siv could have survived to tell Cardinal of her origins was in the medical facility on Parnosses. It had been Phasma’s last act to point Siv in the direction of the facility, but the Senior Hux had sent lethal blasts down to the surface that had made Phasma think no trace of her past was left behind. She had returned only to forge her armor years before, and not since.

            The pathetic planet appeared just as she had left it. It was grey and ugly. She landed exactly where she intended to find her former friend.  As she entered the facility there was silence. Lights flicked on as she walked, blaster outstretched. A single medical droid greeted her. She powered it off and continued her search. Deep in the hospital –like place she found a room that looked like all the others, but the walls were painted. Painted in the scratchings and doodles of a child. She stood in the room examining the drawings. At first, they were nothing but colorful scribbles of landscapes and people that meant nothing. The longer she stared though, she saw that they were illustrations of home. Siv had had a child. For all she knew it could have been Phasma’s brother’s child. She rushed back to find the droid she had so hastily shut off. She demanded to see the archives. To her dismay, they were empty except for one file created only the day before. The file was named Phasma. It was a written message. Siv had learned to read.

            “If you ever read this, good luck Traitor. We’re just fine.”

We? Who was we? The visit that was supposed to bring her answers had left her with more questions and a rage and frustration that she had never felt before. She wasn’t stranger to betrayal, it was always she who had had the power to wield that action the best. She had let herself think she was free. She should have watched Cardinal die. She should have made sure the light when out of his eyes.

Phasma had helplessly flown away from her wretched little planet with an unsettled feeling that had been with her ever since. Siv was out there somewhere, with at least one person who knew who she really was. She could have shared her life beyond their world with Siv, if she had only known. Now, if she ever faced her, she’d have to eliminate her, and for some reason, that bothered her a great deal.

            She was also a little exasperated. She had spent ten years carefully behind her mask. No one who had known the details of her past was left alive. Now there were three. Even the FL rebel cartoonist depicted her with her mask. It had been who she was. Now she wasn’t so sure. She had ventured out many times without her chrome armor. It was not exactly stealthy. A few men had seen her face, but they didn’t know her real name, or anything about her. Why did she care if a few of her female troopers knew what she looked like? She used to care so much. She never went into battle or fought without a mask. Her mask had been her greatest self, it still was. She resented being human, and flesh, and female. She would kill Siv if she ever found her, kill her for ruining her solitude. Phasma hurled the chrome helmet across the passenger area of the officer transport. How long would she pretend she didn’t have a face? Until it was blown off? Then what? Live out her days on some pathetic planet with no purpose?

            The thought of being old and useless made her sick. She heard footsteps and retrieved her helmet in a flash.

 

As Kylo Ren dismounted his speeder and walked into the transport, there was something there he hadn’t expected to find. At first, he thought the feeling was his own, a sweeping memory from long ago. Then, he saw her putting on her mask quickly before he was close enough to say anything. Loss, was the feeling. A tinge of regret and a flash of frustration as he approached. He was back early and she resented him for it, no private quarters here. She stood rapidly, turning to face him, her chin tilted too high at first as she collected herself under her helmet.

            Ren gave pause to the potential interaction. He could say something comforting and make her feel foolish and himself look like he cared. He could comment on the awkwardness they were both feeling which would make him resent himself and her feel that he was a fool. He could say something amusing and hope that she would feel his intent to stay away from the subject altogether and she might be grateful. He knew better, it was better for him to just ignore the entire encounter and let her speak first. He moved passed her to the compartment designated as his and stowed the gift from Weex, his droid, and his mask.

            “Back so soon? You finished your pleasure early then?”

            “Business. Always business,” He moved to stand in the open doorway watching as her troops were at ease. “Hard to believe we were once that young.”

            She joined him there, “Or that naïve.”

            “I don’t know if I was ever that naïve,” He admitted.

            “In a few years you’ll know you were,” she said.

            “Don’t you ever want to just strip down and join them?”

            “On my home planet, exposed skin was a hazard to one’s health for a myriad of reasons. I never saw a bare body unless someone died. I’ve thought about going back to destroy the place.”

            “And try my new weapon?”

            “Why not? I just want to recover something first, if it hasn’t gone missing already.”

            “Something valuable?”

            “Yes.”

            “Why didn’t you get it when you went back for your armor?”

            “I didn’t think about it.”

            “After we board the Supremacy you can have a few days to do what you need to do.”

            “You aren’t even going to ask?”

            “I trust it’s important or you wouldn’t have mentioned it to _me_.”

            “Did Hux tell you where I got my armor?”

            “Does he know it was from my grandmother’s home planet?” At that her helmet turned sharply at him. “Oh, you didn’t even know. How ironic. She was once one of the most revered women in the Galaxy too.”

            Phasma thought she knew who Kylo Ren was. His observation and knowledge of the origin of her armor made her feel that maybe the anonymity she sought with the First Order had not been as sound as she believed.

            “Your greatest weakness is that you trust in the wrong people.” She said sternly.

            “We’ll see. Yours is that you don’t trust at all. You could be a droid behind that mask and no one would know the difference.”

            “You would,” her candor caught him off guard. She never said anything important out loud.

            “Don’t worry. Nothing important could come from what I know.”

            “Important for me or for the First Order?”

            “There isn’t anything connecting you to Cardinal’s disappearance. It would be your men who would be at fault for that, and they won’t come forward unless forced.”

            “Hux still believes I killed him.”

            “You may have.”

            “You don’t care either way, do you?”

            “I know it was personal. Some personal things get in the way, some don’t. Let it go. It’s beyond your control.”

            “I might say the same to you.”

            Ren let his eyes gaze at her mask. It was hard for him to picture her face. Masks were handy that way. They made people forget there were flesh and tears beneath, but he knew better. Even the toughest of women felt things that they brushed off and buried for some other more convenient time, until the most inconvenient time, and the feelings escaped. She was wrong that he didn’t care at all, he was curious. He wanted to know what had struck her so deeply here that she had returned to the transport well before the appointed time. He wanted to know, but he wouldn’t ask. Hux would have asked. She wouldn’t have told him, but he would have asked.

            Pasts were delicate things. They weren’t tangible but they had a way of affecting everything. Like a ghost. Their evidence could be felt and relived over and over if one wasn’t careful. For years Ren had kept so many things firmly behind him. He was sure Phasma had too, and Hux was all too happy to let his father become part of his past as well. The only thing that ever truly mattered was what happened in the moment. Each moment was a new chance to prove himself. Looking forward was the best way to live.

           

The pilot came in and began to ready the ship for departure. Hux came up the ramp exactly on time, flanked by the officers that were to join them on Cloud City. General Wun and his slightly younger Commander Yatley. Three Captains all older than Hux, but not by much, Brust, Nii and Ferdaldio. Their navigational Tech, Xuzt, was only steps behind them, having originally followed Phasma and some of the other women for a swim. Commander Gow and Captain Trof would meet them at Bespin.

           

General Wun was the oldest among them, and he was all too happy to meet up with his wife in Cloud City. He had long been part of the world of politics and war and the perks that came with being in a place of power. He had once had dark hair but was mostly silver now. His wife was at least part Chiss and even though she was no longer a young woman, she still had jet black hair and a striking face. She was also just as matter-of-fact as the General and there was no one who didn’t enjoy her company. Commander Yatley was the shortest man Hux had ever seen. He had been with his father for years and was the most distraught when the senior Hux suddenly died. Of course, if you wanted to remain with the First Order, you had to learn quickly to let things go. Snoke seemed to be an eradicator of the past, the future was his only interest.

Captains Brust and Nii had risen through the ranks of Storm Troopers in a short time only a few years before Phasma. They had strong jaws and broad shoulders, hair cropped the same, blonde and brown. Nii had some sort of alien quality about his skin and facial bones, the nails of his fingers were larger than a human’s, but he seemed human in every other way. Ren noticed he was always eyeing Phasma when he thought she wasn’t aware of him. Captain Ferdaldio had defected from the senate to join their ranks. He had briefly joined the resistance as a pilot, gathered as much intel as he could and then run with it to The First Order. As a man from the other side, he was praised often for his insights. Ren generally thought he stated the obvious and had known the man as a power-hungry senator. He had little respect for him. He knew he was married with at least two children but no one except Hux had ever met his wife.

Xuzt was clearly Kylo Ren’s favorite officer. The other men joked about it behind his back, which he well knew, and didn’t mind. She pretended as if her only interest was her job, but every once in a while, Ren had caught her amused and laughing inside herself that her husband Geg would agree with her. Ren didn’t think anyone knew she was married, it wasn’t recorded in the archives and she never mentioned him. She was brilliant and quick to offer solutions, far extending her role as a strategic navigator. She was 44, of average height, slightly over regulation weight, but pretty. Her hair was light brown and always pulled back the same way. She had vivid green eyes set behind a freckled face that made her look younger than she was. Ren had once asked her why she had joined The First Order, she said it paid better and someone had to do something about the shambles of the Galaxy. He knew there was more to her story, but she wasn’t interested in sharing, and she had the oddest thoughts about him. He didn’t seem to frighten her at all, and every time he was near her she imagined touching his bare arm, but she wasn’t entirely sure if he was not part cybernetics. Then sometimes he couldn’t hear her thoughts at all, and he knew she had them. Ren was pleased she was coming.

Commander Gow had Ren’s best interest. But maybe he had everyone’s best interest. It was he who had oriented Ren to the First Order. Gow had never treated Ren as if he was above him, and Kylo Ren was above the entire First Order. Gow was old enough to be his father, and didn’t look unlike his own father, but he was closer to the age of General Organa. Gow had served as a guard in the Senate Hall years before he joined Snoke. He was superior in his understanding of the common people, and the force. He was Mirialan, and his skin had a yellowish hue, but he bore no markings on his face like the traditional tattoos of his people. His hair was grey above his ears, and he was a regal-looking person Ren thought. He only spoke to answer questions and occasionally give reproof to his younger officers. He had a gentleness in the way he interacted one on one. Previously he had assisted Captain Cardinal with training young recruits and Ren had not seen him much as the army had swollen to exponentially larger numbers in recent years. Ren knew that he knew something about the red Captains’ disappearance, but he didn’t dare ask, not yet. Ren knew Gow had lied to Snoke about Captain Cardinal, and that Gow knew Ren knew he had lied to Snoke. He was waiting for an opportunity.

Captain Torf was Kylo Ren’s least favorite person in the First Order. He was funny, and charming, and loud, and always looking to please General Hux in a way that disgusted Ren. He was the jester of the bunch, nothing but a yes man. He had no mind of his own except when telling stories and Kylo Ren could hardly stand him. General Hux had chosen the officers that were to attend their final preparation meeting, unfortunately.

There was a dutiful subdued nature to their conversations on the transport as they rode to Bespin. They were excited for the break, eager to have some leisure off ship and away from their daily responsibilities, but they had to stay focused until given permission to let loose. Ferdaldio was the first to even mention their coming stay in the resort city floating above Bespin. “Ren, I heard your Knights have grown in number recently. Are any of them coming to join us?”

General Hux huffed, “What’s your sudden interest in phantoms Ferdaldio?”

“I like to know who might be haunting me General,” They looked to Kylo Ren, who had been going over schematics alone in a corner.

“You might have the pleasure of Haz and Natallalia at some point,” he offered blankly without looking in their direction.

Captain Nii unfolded his legs and sat up, “Natallalia. Isn’t he the one with eyes for Captain Phasma?”

Both Wun and Phasma had been wrapped in serious conversation over a holopad and turned sharply at the mention of her name. “What?” She asked.

“Did you hear Captain? Natallalia might join us on Cloud City, maybe you could give him a dance?”

“Captain!” Hux barked evenly, “Isn’t it a bit early for you to be at ease?”

Nii pursed his lips and rose quickly as Phasma took three strides to where he was sitting. She waited three long seconds before she spoke, “Maybe I could give you a concussion?”

Hux tried to hide his smile, as did Wun, and Yatley, who had to put a fist to his mouth to collect himself.

“Would you have to touch me?” Nii’s smirk was steady. They looked to Hux who did nothing but raise his eyebrows in concern.

“Actually,” It was Kylo Ren who broke the silence, “he did send you something.”

“He what?” Phasma turned on him and everyone’s attention was captured.

“Droid, the gift,” Ren’s droid raced to the storage bay and pulled a package up in its arms. He extended it to Phasma who glanced to Hux before taking it from the floating droid. Hux shrugged and she ripped back a corner of the thick paper that enfolded whatever the soft thing was. A blob of very iridescent deep blue fabric protruded from the opening. She ripped the rest open, letting the paper fall to the floor and held the long blue drapery out by her right fist.

“It’s evening wear for Cloud City,” Xuzt grinned.

“A dress?” Phasma asked with distaste.

Hux snorted and looked over at Ren, “She’ll never wear that.”

“Am I obligated to?” Phasma looked to Xuzt.

She shrugged, “Everyone wears gowns after dark on Cloud City. But you can do whatever you want.”

“She’d never do it,” Ferdaldio laughed.

“I’d give up my leave next month to see her in it!” Nii exclaimed.

“She’s standing right there Nii,” Brust shook his head.

“Would you give your leave to me?” Phasma asked Nii.

“Are you serious? You’d wear that tonight if I give you my three days off next month?”

Phasma and Nii looked to Hux for approval. Hux looked to Yatley who shrugged and gave a stiff nod in disbelief. “Deal,” Phasma said, wrapping the ball of fabric up under her left arm. Hux shook his head and scowled at Nii.

“Oh please, don’t pretend you wouldn’t have given her more if you’d thought for a second she’d do it,” Nii nudged Hux’s shoulder from behind. Phasma pretended not to hear their exchange as she shoved the bundle into her own cubby.

“You’re not wrong.” Hux smiled, “Now we all get to benefit.”


	5. Cloud City: Five Months Before the Completion of Starkiller

5

Cloud City: Five Months Before the Completion of Starkiller

 

Lando Calrissian, Grand Leader of Bespin, greeted them personally on the landing pad. He showed them to their personal suites on the highest floor of Cloud City. They received their rings, coded with all the perks reserved for The First Order, another thing Kylo Ren had been quick to negotiate. Ren traded rooms twice before he was satisfied. His final room was nearest the elevator, everyone had to pass by to leave the floor. It was the smallest, a fact that General Yatley happily traded up for.

            “What happens in Cloud City!” Captain Torf yelled in the hallway. Captain Phasma stood outside her door waiting for Hux to deliver instructions.

            “Stays in Cloud City!” Brust hollered from down the hall.

            “Decorum men, please!” Hux whispered hard at Brust. “You still represent The First Order, holiday or no. My room Torf.” The General reminded him as everyone migrated to Hux’s suite. Phasma marveled that everyone had so quickly shed their uniforms, everyone but Kylo Ren. He had put his mask on and seemed to be scrutinizing everyone’s attire from behind his mask. Phasma was more comfortable in her armor. No one questioned her. Everyone else looked like any other person in the Galaxy and sported an assortment of colors and styles. No one would ever guess who they truly were, no one could have picked them out of a crowd. Hux was in full uniform so there was no mistaking who he was.

            “You are not required to report in until tomorrow at eleven-hundred. However, tonight we have a private cantina reserved at twenty-one-hundred so we can let our guard down a little.”

            “Are guests allowed?” Xuzt queried.

            Ren was quick to answer, “Yes, but only guests that have been vetted, or employees of Cloud City that are on the list.”

            Xuzt looked disappointed. Brust spoke up, “Any, special guests on that list?”

            “Of course, would it be a party without them?” Torf jeered. Hux placed his hands firmly behind his back and straightened his shoulders.

            Special guests were, of course, escorts of a sort. They were paid to entertain and charm guests. For an extra fee, some of them would even spend the night.

            “I don’t suppose there are any men on that list?” Phasma almost let herself chuckle.

            “C’mon Phasma, plenty of big hairy men here on holiday I’m sure, you’ll be fine,” Torf wiggled his eyebrows at her, “Besides you always have me and Nii.”

            Phasma stood motionless staring in his direction. Her sarcasm could have been collected in a cup, “What a relief.” Torf didn’t seem to let it bother him and Nii shoved him a little in his ribs.

            “It’s Cloud City, have some fun,” Hux smiled at his group of officers.

            “There’s only one thing left to do before we’re off then!” Hux looked at Gow as he spoke. “Thanks to the man who arranged this much-needed break for us all! Three cheers!”

            “General Hux! General Hux! General Hux!” They saluted him and he feigned a jovial countenance as everyone clamored out except Kylo Ren and Phasma. Hux turned on Ren the moment the doors were sealed.

            “This was all your idea, what is the meaning of giving me all the credit?!”

            “It means more to them coming from you,” Ren said.

            “You had no intention of enjoying yourself at all, did you? Here you are, masked as ever! What is it you are doing exactly?”

            “Whatever I please.” Came the response through the black, chrome embellished face. He moved to leave and backed out the door as he added, “It’s Cloud City, General, have some fun.”

            The doors closed and Hux grimaced at the perceived smile he knew his counterpart was wearing. Phasma was still standing there behind him and he turned on her as well.

            “And I suppose you’re just going to follow me around all day?”

            “Ha,” she laughed, “Not a chance.” She moved past him and exited, leaving him to contemplate his own agenda. He was only in his uniform to make sure people knew who he was. He liked it that people knew who he was. For the third time since they arrived he closed the drawer that had housed something less formal and resolved that he, like Phasma, was more comfortable in uniform.

            Phasma was alone in the elevator with Kylo Ren. “What did they mean, what happens in Cloud City, stays in Cloud City?”

            “People let loose here. Come for a break. Take risks they might not usually. Relax. It’s just a saying. A secret truth to vacation.”

            “Not something you like to do.” Phasma observed.

            “I am quite at my leisure,” He said. She could hear the smile behind his mask and she couldn’t help but smile too. He got off the elevator and tapped his helmet to say goodbye. He seemed to know where he was going. He had been there before, obviously. Of course, he had planned this whole excursion and she felt lost. She didn’t suppose there was a fighting ring somewhere she’d feel at home in.

            “Greetings Captain Phasma!” The old man who was called Lando Calrissian bowed slightly as she stepped off the elevator at the main floor. He held out his hand to her but she didn’t take it.

            “What do people do here?” She tried to sound as uninterested as possible. There were families and couples of all shapes and sizes bustling around beyond the grand area in which they stood. “Oh, that’s easy, come and see!” He walked her over to the nearest window and motioned for a humanoid looking droid to join them. “Mostly, my people are employed harvesting gas. It’s beautiful and you’re welcome to take a tour. As our planet became more known, more and more people insisted on visiting and so now we offer gambling, shows, dining, spa treatments, simulations of all kinds, and rarified shopping experiences.

            “Does anyone fight?”

            “Oh sure, we have several fights lined up beginning in an hour.”

            “Is it real?”

            “Uh, you mean, is it just for entertainment? I can see you don’t mess around. Yes, it’s just for fun.”

            “I wouldn’t enjoy that.” Phasma sighed. “This wasn’t my idea.”

            “I would recommend taking a tour of the gas harvest. Eat some good food. And we have something special we’re still working on that involves repelling down into the gases. How would you like to try it out?”

            “Yes. That does sound interesting. I don’t care for all the people.”

            “Perfect. Let me escort you down to where we give the private tours in small groups then!”

            “Fine.”

           

The transport seemed unnecessarily ornate. There were two alien couples and one older human man who was flirting with their Mirialan tour guide. She was taller than average with typical Mirialan face markings on the right side of her forehead and down her right cheek. She must have been only part Mirialan as her skin had a bluish green sheen to it. Her hair was twisted up against her head on the right and pulled into a bun at her left shoulder. She was very pretty, and probably a few years younger than herself, Phasma thought. Her thoughts were interrupted as soon as the woman saw her approaching.

            “Captain Phasma, of The First Order!” The woman exclaimed, not loudly, thank goodness. “You’re even more captivating up close! I meet all kinds of celebrities but no one I admire like you!” The woman didn’t move to shake her hand and instead clasped them together against her own chest. “Please come in and take a seat and we are ready to begin. You’ll get a better view with your helmet off, but I’ll leave that up to you.” She winked, gesturing to a window seat.

 

The only person Phasma had voluntarily taken her helmet off in front of was Hux. Once, when Snoke was introducing her to Kylo Ren, he had insisted she take off her helmet, he had done the same. He seemed surprised by what was under the mask, as she had been surprised by his youth, and average, unscarred face. His heavy sloppy way of fighting had made her assume he had been repeatedly injured. She had never fought him herself however. His use of the Force would probably give him an unfair advantage.

            The Wookie couple at the far end of the long luxurious transport were talking quietly to each other. How lucky to live that long. She thought. They were feared and left to themselves wherever they went, mainly because few could communicate with them. Their tour guide seemed to be having no problem as she offered them drinks and refreshments. The other couple were Grubvarian and dressed in luxurious clothing and jewelry and it wasn’t even their evening attire. From where she was sitting she couldn’t see the face of the pilot as he boarded hurriedly on the other side of a carved metal wall between them. The fancier the ship, the greater the distance between the pilot and the passengers. As she strained to see what the pilot looked like, the Mirialan tour guide stood smiling in her view, “I’m Jes, if you need anything, or if you have any questions. I apologize for the tardiness of our pilot, he’s new,” She said it quietly and then turned to the man in the double cockpit. “You started this morning and they have you working _my_ ship? You studied the route for like five minutes.”

            “Don’t worry,” a familiar voice said calmly, “Captain Phasma, what a surprise.” The man spoke in an uninterested tone.

            “Only about three minutes ag-“ Jes was cut off by Phasma’s form moving passed her to the cockpit. Phasma sat down silently in the seat next to the pilot and stared at him. Kylo Ren looked at her for a second before smiling forced and close-lipped back at Jes in a way Phasma had never seen him do. It was his best effort at a reassuring grin. It was awkward. He was dressed in a Cloud City Cloud tour pilot’s uniform, complete with hat, and a badge that read ‘Oly’. His being there, awkwardly fidgeting, dressed in a uniform had her considering for a second that he had a twin she had never heard of.

            “We usually don’t let passengers ride in the cockpit,” Jes said, eyeing “Oly” suspiciously.

            “It’s okay.” Oly said, “She’s famous.” He looked at her squarely as he moved to engage the controls.

            Jes smiled at him mischievously, “Fine, but it’s on you if anything happens.”

            Oly shrugged and gave a thumbs up at Phasma. Jes hurried to the other side of the vehicle to attend to her patrons. Phasma wasn’t sure if she had ever dropped her jaw while in her mask before. What was going on? Before she could even ask, the very knight who had sent her the shiny dress came jogging up and jumped into the transport. When he saw Phasma he looked at pilot Kylo Ren in eager surprise. He whispered in a low voice to Ren, “You didn’t tell me Captain Phasma was going to be on this tour! How am I supposed to do what I’m supposed to do with her right here?” He was dressed in very nice looking clothing, and seemed to be posing as politician.

“You must be joking,” Phasma looked in front of them and outside the transport. “This is some kind of elaborate trick or something.”

Weex spoke too close to her helmet, “I promise this job means nothing to me, I only have eyes for you Captain.” He reached for her hand and to her disbelief she could not retract it. He kissed the back of her chrome-plated glove gingerly. Her hand may have been temporarily compromised, but her mouth wasn’t.

“Move along little knight,” She fumed through her mask.

Weex moved quickly away from them and took Phasma’s former seat, “I told you I’d be back!” He flirted to the tour guide.

“Senator Weex. How nice to see you again so soon.” It was obvious it was too soon for her, “I take it you know Captain Phasma.”

“Only from a few brief handshakes, but I’ve long admired her career.”

“As have I.” She smiled, allowing him to take her hand between his.

“Well let’s begin then! Welcome everyone to the Cloud City Cloud tour on Bespin. The guided tour will begin shortly, let me know if you’d like to linger at any moment and ask more questions. I’m Jes. I’ve lived in Cloud City for three years. I love it and we hope you will too.”

Lando’s voice began to play over the speaker, “Welcome to Cloud City, and thank you for…” The background continued as Phasma leaned as close to Ren as she could get without looking strange. She pretended to be admiring the view above as he moved the transport forward following the guided trajectory.

“What is this?” She whispered with her helmet vented so that the voice enhancer was off.

“Let me just say that if you blow this mission I will not hesitate to crash this thing far below us leaving you to fall to this planet’s center of Gravity as your chest is crushed by the force of my power from safely within this cockpit.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“You’ve seen the power I wield, you’ve felt just a taste of what Weex can do. Keep quiet. If you tell Hux anything I’ll know.”

“I’ll need a ship on the days of Nii’s leave next month.”

Ren smiled slightly. She wasn’t even the least bit concerned with what he was doing there or why. “Do you plan on coming back?”

“Of course. You would accuse me of desertion?”

“Never, I just want to make sure so I know which ship to lend you.”

She laughed under her breathe. “So, if I ever wanted to leave and never be heard from again, you’d procure me a ship?”

“That would depend on the deal.  Did Hux try to kill me today?”

“If he did I had no knowledge of it. Why do you ask?”

“Because Haz was supposed to be here in my place, but he ate something that didn’t agree with him.”

“Did you take him to med bay?”

“Of course I did. He’s now staying in the room I was supposed to be in and he ends up drinking something meant for me and isn’t feeling well? He doesn’t have to think about things like that. He should, but he didn’t.

“Is he going to be okay?”

“He’ll be fine. It was a simple formula. The med droids had an antidote in five minutes. But it put me in this awkward position. It seemed too primitive for Hux.”

Phasma looked Ren up and down. She had always thought of him as entitled and far above getting his hands dirty other than the easiest of executions for Snoke abroad. Maybe she had misjudged him. He had probably never been hungry a day in his life, but maybe he had earned his place there to a degree more than she thought.

“Oh, because I have had everything handed to me. I was unwittingly part of First Order politics before you even knew what the First Order was. Why is everything with you about physical survival?” Her lack of response made him realize she hadn’t actually spoken aloud.

Now she would, “I fought for my place every day until Brendol Hux allowed me to join him here. And I’ll keep fighting for it.”

“So will I. You have no idea the things I’ve done to be here.”

“No. But I’m sure by now you have an idea of mine. What you must think of me.”

“I think you’re comfortable. I think you’ll stay here as long as you need to.”

“Well, Oly, you aren’t wrong.”

“I’m looking for someone. I have too many soldiers and not enough leaders.” He explained.

“She has the information you need?”

“I think so. It’s hard to tell. Either she knows everything and is who I think she is, or she’s just a dumb bartender.”

“It’s hard to tell at this stage of things. People like us, who do what needs to be done…” Her voice trailed off, “I’ve never seen you run.”

He scowled. It was the strangest thing to say. They had been near each other for years, but never quite working together. She must have seen him run at some point. In some ways, her bluntness, and the way she jumped from subject to subject reminded him of a child. Phasma watched Jes for a few more minutes.

“I think she’s who you’re looking for.” Phasma finally said, “She was afraid to touch me, like that would give something away somehow. I think she’s a fighter.”

“How do you know?” He tried to watch Jes in the mirror on the control console.

“She took stock of my weapons within seconds. But I don’t think she has any idea who you are.”

“Well, I am wearing my disguise. You should try it sometime. At the salons here they’ll do your hair and paint your face.”

“Paint your face how?”

“I don’t know, on your eyes and lips or something.”

“Every day I used to paint my face to protect my skin from my planet’s harsh conditions. Here, people pay to have someone outline their faces in dirt. The irony never escapes me.”

Phasma turned to watch Weex more closely. Ren followed the direction of her helmet.

“He does really like you, you know. He’s strong.”

“I know. But he’s a child.”

 

At the end of their tour Jes waved everyone off cheerfully. She made sure to assure Phasma if there was anything she needed to call on her. Then she turned and leaned a hand on Ren’s shoulder.

            “Ugh I hate politicians. That Weex guy would not let it go. I’m older than he is by a lot, and you too probably.”

            “How old do you think I am?”

            “25?”

            “Good guess.” He lied.

            “So, you are way too capable for this job. Why are you really here?”

            “I was a pilot for the First Order, but got injured, and they rotated me out. What about you?”

She shrugged and smiled suggestively, “I’m sorta good at a lot of things, nothing that pays much, but I only do one thing really well.”

“What is that?”

“Basket weaving.”

He grimaced. She was teasing him.

“Oh, come on, did you really think I was just going to tell you? We have another tour.”

Oly nodded, “I’ll be right back.” He ran off in the direction of Weex and found him talking to Phasma just beyond their original meeting place.

“I don’t think she’s the girl,” Weex said firmly.

“I think she is,” Phasma and Ren said at the same time.

“No, she’s too friendly,” he objected. “I think she’d talk all day if anyone let her.”

“Yes, women talking, what a problem.” Phasma glanced around irritated.

“Phasma, my darling. If a woman isn’t half threatening me at all times, I’m just not convinced that she really cares.”

“Please stop.” Phasma tried staring him down.

Ren rolled his eyes, “I should get back. I think if I stay longer she’ll keep talking to me.”

“Really?” Phasma and Weex said together.

“Yes. I’ll meet you where we agreed when we agreed to. And check on Haz.” He jogged back the way he had come.

“Well, what do you want to do now?” The younger man asked.

“I thought about putting on a disguise for the day.”

“Oh, please do. You’d have so much fun just blending in. I’ll meet you at the elevator in a half hour after I check on Haz?”

“Fine.”

 

A tall woman in layered, but fitted clothing, stood outside the elevator. Her hair was parted on one side and her blonde curls spilled down to just below her ears. It was shaved shorter in the back. She looked a few years older than she was, a product of harsh living conditions through her youth. Her chiseled face was comely and fair. She wore a mixture of deep red and brown, accented with darker brown leather.

“Wow.” Weex stood before her admiring the woman who was always beneath a mask. “Just so you know, if you ever want to leave the First Order and make babies with me on some unknown world, I own a little ship we could take.”

“What?” She asked. He was ridiculous. “Everyone is staring.”

“Yeah, because you’re tall and beautiful. Wait until they see you in that dress I gave you.”

“I’m not walking around in that.”

“Oh right, because chrome body armor is so much less subtle.”

“It’s intimidating.”

“And a gorgeous woman in a beautiful gown isn’t?”

He moved to hold her hand and she grabbed his collar thrusting him against the nearest wall at the throat. “Don’t touch me.” She hissed. He smiled in an obnoxious way.

“If you never touch me again, this is enough.” She released him and continued walking, muttering under her breath.

“Don’t embarrass yourself.” She said through her teeth.

“But Amsa I love you!” He called loudly after her. She changed her mind and ducked into a corridor and moved fast taking three sharp turns to lose the weasel. She ran fast through small clusters of people, after a few more turns and up a small staircase, she hurried out onto a little balcony she could stand over, that was very secluded. She waited against a shrubbery where she was sure she could not be seen by passers-by. It was quiet. She grinned triumphantly thinking she’d lost him, but he arrived at the top of the staircase just as she stepped away from the plant.

 “How did you do that?” She, was both impressed and annoyed that he found her so quickly.

“It’s a force thing?” He regretted teasing her too much too soon.

“Tracking?” She was trying to work out how that was facilitated. Her mask provided all kinds of information. He could track through a crowded place unassisted.

“Yeah, sensing where someone is.”

She looked out over the ledge and leaned her hands on the railing. If he found her that quickly, maybe he was worth spending some time with. She wondered if he was as good with his saber as he was at his tricks. However, he had embarrassed her, and he was now, not to be trusted.

Weex watched her thinking. He could tell she was trying to decide if she was better off alone or if he could offer her something. He had gone too far in his casual flirting. He forgot she was like him, damaged. Who knows what kind of person she’d be if she hadn’t been forced to survive. She was so beautiful though, standing in the mid-morning glow that was Bespin. He was sure if she would give him another chance he could prove himself worthy. She looked him up and down. He was dressed like someone who had money, but he was just a kid pretending to be important.

“I have an appointment to go on a rope off the city. I don’t want you to come with me.”

“Hey. I promise I won’t embarrass you. Or touch you. Or even talk to you if that’s what you want.”

She looked away out to the clouds.

“How did you know what I look like without my mask?” She wanted to know.

“I’ve seen your file.”

“I erased it from the database years ago.”

“The only people who have access to it are Snoke, Kylo Ren, and General Hux. You can’t erase it from them.”

“What does it say?”

“Height, weight, origins, species, medical reports.”

“I know what’s in a file, what does _mine_ say?”

“Phasma. 6’ 6”. 200lbs. Species Human. Broken arm, stitches like thirty times, broken foot, punctured lung and fractured eye socket.”

“That’s all?”

“Yep, no home world or history. Oh, and your ranking, Specialized Captain, ranked only below the Generals.”

Phasma looked at Weex’s half alien face. He wasn’t unattractive. He wasn’t too short either. She did want to see more of his power the way he’d controlled her hand in the tour transport. If she spent a little time with him, even got him a little drunk, he’d probably show her anything she wanted.

“Come on.” She said decidedly, “I’ll show you how to jump with a rope.”

 

In his uniform Hux was feared and respected. He never had to demand anything. Everything was offered to him. Weather anyone liked the First Order or not didn’t matter. He was a powerful man, and that was enough for them. Women always flocked to him. Women see a uniform and know a free drink and meal will follow if they’re pleasant enough company. Hux had half a drink, two beautiful women joined him, and then they all attended a show that was much more entertaining than he expected. Acrobats, dancers and a bit of magic always put him in a good mood. One of the girls was half twi-lek, the other was human. They had perfect figures and gorgeous faces. Hux told them stories and they laughed and gasped. He held their delicate fingers in his and they giggled. He kept a hand on each waist as he pleased. He didn’t ask where they were from, or how they got there. He didn’t care. As they walked out of the show they decided to take the long way to the casinos so they could enjoy the view.

            “What is that?” Hux indicated above them just outside the glass. There were several people on ropes who looked like they were preparing to jump off the edge of the city.

            “Oh,” The Twi-lek girl laughed, “Something new for visitors. Repelling into the clouds. They’ve been working on the idea for about a month. I don’t know why anyone would want to jump off anything on purpose.”

            Hux watched the small group as they spread out on the ledge above. Then, something caught his eye, someone. A blonde woman shoved a younger man a little off balance and held him in place with the rope. He laughed and a Cloud City tour guide who appeared to be leading the troop, took a step toward them and pointed angrily. Hux stopped walking and stared. He was sure it was Phasma. Her attire reminded him of the first time he saw her, sans the ill-fitting Stormtrooper armor. She was arguing with their repelling guide over the helmet he had handed her. She pointed down and held the helmet in his face. The man stood his ground, of course he did, he didn’t know she might thrust him off the edge of Cloud City without a second thought. The younger part alien man she was with hit her on the shoulder and she conceded, putting on the helmet and keeping her eyes locked at the guide. They spread out farther from each other. Then jumped one at a time in a row off the side of the metal edge, flying down past the glass. Hux took a few swift steps to watch them disappear beyond the clouds below.

            “Curious,” he said. As far as he knew, he was the only one Phasma ever took her mask off around. Only in their one on one meetings. Very rarely. There was one instance when they had all been in a meeting and Snoke had instructed her to remove her helmet to demonstrate a new feature to the Generals. Only two of those men were still alive. Yet, here she was mask-free jumping into clouds.

            “Are you alright Huxy?” The human girl at his side asked.

            “What did you just call me?”

            The human bit her lip. “Sorry General.”

            “That’s better,” He forced a smile and once again wrapped his arms around each waist, “Let’s continue, shall we?”

 

“Siv!” The tour guide yelled at Phasma as she dropped passed the ascending group once more. She overtook them again just before the top of the metal ridge. Weex was now sitting there waiting, and offered a hand up to each of them in turn. Phasma took his hand hard and pulled, but he didn’t budge. She couldn’t hide her disbelief. He felt like a statue, as if nothing could have moved him. The tour guide stomped over to where she now stood.

            “You need to leave! I’m trying to develop a process here and you’re toying with it! Don’t come back.”

            Phasma’s lips curled into a thin grin. “I will if I feel like it. But probably without you, if it’s all the same.” He huffed and she continued to shed her gear and wrap it flawlessly into neat piles rapidly. He watched her, shaking his head irritatedly, and picked up the piles without a word. Weex struggled to get unhooked just as fast to follow her.

            “Can people get thrown out of Cloud City?” Weex chuckled.

            “They can get locked up.”

            “I thought you’d never been here before.”

            “I read the manual in my suite.”

            “There’s a manual for Cloud City?”

            “Apparently. Let’s eat something.”


	6. Cloud City: Four Months to Starkiller Completion

6

Cloud City: Four Months to Starkiller Completion

 

Basket weaving, pod-racing, knitting, moisture farming, slicing. A waste of time. Either she was teasing him because she thought it was cute, or she was teasing him because she knew exactly who he was. Kylo Ren filed into the cafeteria line for Cloud City employees trying not to look as angry as he was. The smell of food made him feel better. He scanned the room. It was louder than any cafeteria of the First Order. It reminded him of an Academy eating room, bubbling with excitement. The First Order trained its soldiers to be mild in manner and controlled in volume. This place was lively.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a non-uniformed familiar face walking at a fast pace along the wall. A chef came out to greet her and they hugged warmly and kissed so sweetly that Ren, disguised as Oly, looked away. It was Xuzt. She waited there as the chef disappeared back into the kitchen and emerged again with two, much fancier plates. Oly glanced over the food ahead, it was not as superior as what was on their plates. They sat to eat. He considered abandoning his charade to seek out a better luncheon as a tourist, but he was too exhausted. The entire afternoon of chatter, combined with all Jes’s flirty touching had left him drained.

Ren watched as Jes and a few other very attractive female employees sat down on the far side of the Cafeteria. The food was decent enough. Bounds better than anything on a military vessel. If there was one thing he had ever longed for from his past, it was the food. He sucked back his saliva. Jes got his attention as he came out of the line and he gave her the one-minute signal as he veered in exactly the opposite direction and sidled up to Xuzt, and the chef. His name tag read “X”. Their conversation halted immediately and her hand drew back from her partner’s as ‘Oly’ sat down heavily with a blank expression.

“Hello, Oly.” X smiled, gaging his wife’s reaction, “Would you mind? We have a lot of catching up to do, and we’d like to be alone.” Xuzt pressed her hand to his and straightened a little in her chair. He took her cue and watched her closely. Ren threw her a small unbalanced smile before speaking.

“Xuzt. This must be your husband Geg.”

Xuzt was suddenly paler and less stern-looking than usual. “Yes,” She said reluctantly, “I didn’t realize I’d mentioned him to you.”

“Oh, just in passing.”

“Sorry, how do you two know each other?” Geg asked.

“Until recently I was a pilot with the First Order. I hear several of the First Order officers are having a little get together on the top floor tonight, significant others included. I had the pleasure of Captain Phasma’s company on my first tour this morning.”

Xuzt shook her head almost indiscernibly at him. Geg looked to her expectantly. “No.” She clarified for her husband, “Only vetted guests are allowed.”

Her husband squeezed her hand, “You know I don’t mind. Let them do my background so I’m registered. I don’t mind being in their system.”

“I mind.” She squeezed his hand back and looked down at her food.

“Xuzt, I know Phasma would be happy to allow Geg to attend.”

“She wouldn’t mind?” Xuzt’s tone came out steadily, like the well-trained officer that she was.

“I know she wouldn’t, if you’d only mentioned it before. We’re all on the same side, aren’t we?”

“Yes!” Geg chimed in, reaching for Oly’s hand. “Glad you interrupted after all! Stay if you like, now that we know we have a little more time!”

“No. There’s a table waiting for me. See you tonight.”

He was pleased with himself. He would have to make sure her husband wasn’t some kind of Resistance spy first, but he was curious to meet the man he’d never heard her mention out loud.

Jes and her three friends motioned him over enthusiastically. So enthusiastically that he considered walking straight to his room for half a second before giving in. Weex would have been much more suited to this.

“Well, Oly! Aren’t you just tall dark and handsome wrapped up in mystery?”

“Jes was just telling us about Captain Phasma. She always gets the best guests.”

“A friend of mine saw Kylo Ren this morning,” Jes winked to the girl on her left.

The girl stopped chewing and swallowed, “He’s here?”

“He’s on my guest list for tonight,” the girl closest to Ren offered coyly.

“Are you supposed to tell people that?” Ren asked gently.

“No,” Jes tapped her under the table, “She isn’t.”

“Oh, who cares?” the girl answered.

“Vanda, it matters,” Jes said seriously. “What if Oly is some kind of assassin and he is supposed to find and kill Kylo Ren and you just told him where he is going to be?”

The man pretending to be Oly continued to eat at the same pace. Vanda looked at him, “You aren’t a secret assassin, are you?”

“Not a secret one. And I’d never kill Kylo Ren intentionally,” he assured her. “Do you honestly believe anyone could kill Kylo Ren?”

            Vanda ignored his question, “Not a secret one? And what, do you mean unintentionally kill someone?”

“I used to be a pilot for the First Order.”

The girls all exchanged looks. The first girl touched his hand gingerly, “That explains his sad mysterious eyes. He’s seen things we probably can’t imagine, haven’t you?”

Kylo Ren had a problem coming off as genuine in these types of situations. He was so out of practice with regular social interactions with the opposite sex, and so calculated in his day to day activities, that he came off as quite dull. It worked in his favor that people wrote him off as boring. It was a convenient mask. He had tempered his feelings for years. His eyes were two almost black marbles looking back at someone, it was unsettling for most, and attractive to some. He was used to telling people what to do, and carrying out orders. Small talk proved his awkwardness. He had spent two hours trying to small talk his way with Jes. That was easy, she hadn’t stopped talking. She had looked at him as if trying to pick him apart, trying to figure him out. She hadn’t gotten very far.

Jes answered for him, “He was just a transport pilot. He was injured a few months ago and not fit for the First Order. If he ever did know anything interesting he thinks they wiped his memory. Isn’t that right?”

“Yeah,” he said shoveling down the last few bites of his meal.

“It’s so weird they can just do that,” Vanda said, looking over her food.

“Nothing you’d probably want to remember anyway,” The first girl changed the subject, “You should escort Jes back to her room since there are First Order officers and assassins floating around.”

“Of course.” He tried to smile at her directly but he could feel that she was no longer interested. To his surprise, she agreed. He pressed his comlink silently to signal for help, and escorted her all the way to the section of resident chambers.

When they arrived at her quarters she didn’t move to go in.

“So,” she asked quietly, “what does your shift look like the rest of the day?”

“This might be my first and last day actually.” His answer surprised her. She looked down the hallway on both sides, but he spoke again before she could, “What are you doing the rest of the day?” He had the sense she knew more than she let on and he wasn’t yet willing to leave her without knowing for sure.

“I have a split shift. I’m actually tending that party for the First Order later. I have a few hours free right now if you wanted to spend some more time together.” She touched his hand and took a step closer. “Especially if you aren’t going to keep your job here.” Her voice was low and gentle. He knew exactly what she was doing, if she didn’t use the force, she was about to lure him to someone who did. He could feel the connection. Any non-force user would have been helpless. How much longer was he going to have to pretend? He would have another chance that evening if she wasn’t lying. She thought this was her last chance to discern who he was. A loud laugh from the way they had come relieved him. The connection waned in response and he still couldn’t tell if it was her or someone nearby. Weex stumbled into the hallway holding a bottle.

“Hey! Jes my tour guide! I found you!” Weex slurred as if drunk.

“Senator,” she sighed, pushing Oly farther down the hallway behind her and motioning for him to keep walking. She backed him around a corner and spoke to Weex firmly, “Senator, I appreciate your giving me such special attention, but I have a husband.”

Ren considered this. She was either lying to Weex or to Oly somehow.

            “What?” Weex feigned despair. “That is too bad.”

            “So I hope you have a lovely day here in Cloud City. These are private residences and I’m sure you understand not lingering. It’s the law.”

            “Of course. Of course. I apologize. But do you know where my suite is?”

            Jes huffed, “One moment Senator, stay right there.” She peeked around the corner to Oly the pilot and waved for him to go, “Don’t quit until tomorrow okay?” Kylo Ren nodded and hurried away until he was once again out in the open of Cloud City. He’d have another chance at her. He was sure she was the contact he was looking for. This was a great place to hide. She had tried to play Oly, but she would not escape Kylo Ren. He ventured to the employee station on his floor and changed out of uniform. The guard standing by, saluted his superior as he left, accidentally. Ren headed in the direction of the smaller casino to meet Weex.

           

Weex had raced to get there and was out of breath. “Well, assuming she doesn’t jump ship I guess you’ll have one more chance tonight. She was all over you.”

            “She suspected me of something, but she doesn’t know who I am at all or she wouldn’t have tried what she did. She attempted to touch me multiple times.”

            “Really? You could use a gentle touch don’t you think?”

            His leader ignored his joke, “Of course, this means you definitely cannot attend this evening.”

            “Oh, come on, I could be a special guest or something. Phasma plans to wear my dress to win the bet with Nii. I have to see her in it Ren.”

            “Will you knock it off? This has nothing to do with you and Phasma, this is a mission to protect the fate of the First Order. Play courtship on your own time. Do you know how much time I’ve wasted since Haz went down? If the two of you had remained focused he’d be standing here right now instead of me.”

            Weex’s eyes went dark, “I haven’t had a break in months. I’ve hardly slept more than three hours at a time on this mission scouring the Galaxy for a ghost that may not even exist. You may choose to hide your humanity, that’s your right, but I like mine.”

            “Every day that Luke Skywalker is alive is a day that threatens the First Order’s stability for Snoke. We have orders.”

            “May I have a few hours to myself Leader Ren?”

            Kylo Ren stood looking at this young orphan in nicer clothes then he’d ever worn. This orphan who meant nothing to anyone. This clever, force sensitive being who had accomplished much for him in his time devoted to Snoke. He had found something that was enjoyable. He was after something that brought him pleasure. It didn’t matter that he wouldn’t succeed. Ren had once felt that way, well before he reached the age of Weex. Weex was special. Despite his hard training and difficult life, despite the fact that he was a talented killer and had no trouble following orders without question, he was still excited to be alive.

            “Go. But if you run away from me and the First Order with Captain Phasma I’ll come find you.”

            Weex grinned, “1900 hours, Haz will be discharged. Meet you there?”

            Ren nodded. He returned to his room and lay out on a lounge chair. He needed time to reflect on the fast approaching evening. He lay watching the gases floating in the slowly setting sunlight. It was mesmerizing. He put a cold pack to the back of his neck in an attempt to take the pounding ache from his head. He closed his eyes and let his mind wander.

“Ben stop!” His mother’s voice laughed heartily from within their large suite. “I’m not going to fall!” He called back. His feet moved along the rail with ease as he turned to jump down against the large balcony. Memories. More had surfaced recently. It wasn’t a longing, it was something tugging at him, like the girl on the mountain, something was coming from the past.

 

“I will never get that hour of my life back,” Phasma lamented as they left before the big staged fight was over.

            “I did warn you.”

            “Lando Calrissian warned me too. I’d like to have a real fight.”

            “We could go to a sim.”

            “I’m tired of simulators. How big is your suite?”

            “You want to go back to my room and fight me?” Weex was skeptical.

            “I want you to show me what you did on the ledge. Use your force.”

            “Are you serious?”

            “I’m never not serious.”

            “I could really injure you.”

            “Prove it.”

            “What do I get out of this little adventure in my bedroom?”

            “It depends on how much you’re willing to show me I guess.” She ran one hand through his hair slowly enough that he was ready to do anything if it meant more of her touching him.

            Weex led the way, wondering if she really knew what she was asking. He’d happily fight her if that’s what she wanted. He used to dream about fighting her. Now he had the chance and he was reluctant. That was ironic. He opened the door and gestured for her to enter ahead of him as he’d seen dignitaries do with beautiful women. As he’d seen his master, Kylo Ren do. It was a large room with two beds.

            “How did your friend ingest poison?”

            “Some bottled drink. I cleared the room. It was meant for Ren.”

            “Show me your saber.” Phasma said opening her hand to him. Weex hesitated. She put her hands on her hips, something she rarely did in her armor. “I thought you said you weren’t afraid of me.”

            “I lied.” He admitted.

            “But you still think you can beat me in a fight, no weapons?”

            He pulled out his lightsaber and handed it to her. She ignited it and wielded it the way she had seen Kylo Ren do. She gave a few hard swings and shook her head handing it back to him. “There’s no balance. It has no weight in the blade. Ren has instructed the soldiers in basic lightsaber defense. I don’t care for it.”

            “I do.” Weex ignited it swinging it around and slashing the air a few times before spinning his blade and catching it.

            “You have excellent form,” She observed. “Show me your powers.” She drew a small blaster and shot at him five times, all of which he absorbed with his saber except the last which deflected against a wall, leaving a mark.

            “Hey, I don’t know how soundproof these rooms really are!”

            “Damage can be repaired. Your skills are impressive. You should kill Ren and become the leader of your knights.”

            Weex laughed. “I have much still to learn. Snoke doesn’t need to carry a weapon if that says anything about _his_ power.”

            “What else can you do?” She shrugged.

            “Mind tricks won’t work on you, unless you have your guard down.”

            “I know. If I want Kylo Ren to know what I’m thinking, he can.”

            “Without the force, there’s no way you could resist him.”

            “Fascinating. What else? What do you use in a fight? Let’s play knock down, five second pin, three out of five, and you can show me.”

            “I don’t want to hurt you.” Weex hesitated.

            “Wounds heal,” she tossed out a long thin blaster onto one of the beds. Then her comlink and three knives. Phasma assumed fighting stance.

            Weex was afraid to hurt her. He was no longer the wily kid he once was. He tossed his saber on the other bed and walked slowly around her. She followed him with her body and waited patiently for him to strike first. He nudged her a little with the force.

            “I felt that.” She smiled wistfully in anticipation.

            “What about this?” He shoved her harder backwards and she had to shift her feet to re-center herself. She chuckled and ran at him faster and harder than he could react. He was barely able to block the right hook she attempted and moved behind her, leaping onto her back and pinning her to the floor with his knee. He held her arms firmly behind her. His knee felt like a rock and the harder he pulled, the less air could escape her lungs. It hurt to laugh, but she couldn’t help it.

            “What’s so funny?” He asked.

            “If I move I’ll crack a rib or dislocate my arm.”  
            “Probably.” He observed.

            “You feel as if you’re made of stone.”

            “You’re the strongest human I’ve ever fought.”

            “Are you lying?” A sharp pain in her chest made her realize she was beaten, “Yield.”

            “No, I’m not lying. Trained force sensitives are no match for regular sentients. I can feel your strength. If I was a better fighter I might be able to avoid using the force.”

            “Interesting.” She stepped closer to him than before. She hit him hard in the ribs and bumped him with her hips before a prompt uppercut that sent him stepping backward. Before he could regain his balance completely she tripped him from behind and punched him hard in the stomach. The wind jolted out of him and he realized she was not going to just let this go. He pulled his right leg back to balance on and came at her hard from the ground. She grunted as she hit the wall under his body. They probably weighed the same, but her height advantage gave him a lower center of gravity and he had taken her off hers completely. She wrapped her legs around him hard and smashed her fists against the sides of his ears. He exclaimed in irritated pain but didn’t let her away from the wall. Her jabs to his sides were sharp and he got ahold of himself enough to block them with the force and step away, keeping her pinned to the wall with his open hand for support.

            “I thought you said you were going to try not to use the force.” Her body was smashed against the wall in an uncomfortable way. She was completely helpless.

            “I never said that. I don’t want to hurt you and I don’t want you to hurt me.”

            “How many have you killed to turn your saber so red?”

            “I have no idea.”

            “10?”

            “Hundreds.” He let her body slide down until her feet touched the floor.

            “You’re a warrior, but you can only fight one way?”

            “I’m not a fighter. I’m a killer.” He admitted.

            “You don’t enjoy the game? The give and take?”

            “I only like winning.”

            “Then win!” She shouted much louder than he expected. Her foot landed hard into his shin. He reacted by punching hard in the direction of her face as she moved in. It was too hard. She landed like a rag doll on the floor. She sat up on her elbows chuckling.

            “Did you hit me with just your fist?”

            “You asked me to!” He sat down on the floor near her and pulled his saber to him.

            “You’re not a warrior. You’re just an errand boy like your leader.”

            “And you’re just like the leaders of the First Order. The General, The Captain and The Knight. Three dark figures who only want what they want. One commands armies, one trains the legions, one masters the force. You’re all pawns for Snoke.”

            “We have a purpose. A use for our power.” Phasma used some of her red cloth to wipe her bloody nose.

“What made you leave your home world?”

            “I didn’t want to die there. Where everything was dictated for me.”

            “It’s cleaner where you are now. You can be yourself without judgement or reproof. But it’s the same.”

            “Be myself? You don’t know who I am.”

            “You’re a survivor. How else could you have risen to your position so quickly? You like the challenge of pain. I don’t.”

            “You’re young, and innocent, you don’t even know what you want yet.”

            “You may be stronger, and older than I am. But you aren’t wiser.” He stood offering her a hand up, “You don’t know what you want either. You fight without any concern for your own life because you have nothing to live for.”

            She took his hand as a curtesy but as she rose she elbowed him hard enough in the face to draw blood from his bottom lip. She was surprised at how hard her shoulder blades hit the door behind her. He had thrown her back with his abilities. He walked angrily to pin his hands on the wall near her face. He was only two inches shorter than she was like this. He looked hard into her eyes. She let them be cold. She didn’t care what he thought of her. He looked at her lips. His wound had begun to drip down his chin. He wiped it on the back of his soft, black fingerless glove.

He kissed her hard on the mouth and she couldn’t stop him. She was helpless. She couldn’t move a muscle. He was not what she had expected. He had a sense of himself. The kind of thing that did not make for a good soldier. He never would have made it in the Storm Trooper program. He was stronger than he knew. But too independent in his mind. What a waste.

He had answered her questions and fulfilled his end of the deal. Her only chance of defeating him was to give in for a few seconds and hope he took the bait. She moved her lips back against his as if to prove a point. He pulled back in surprise.

“You kept your end of the bargain.” She cooed. The force he had used on her let up instantly and her body was free, almost. She feigned eagerness along with him as he went forward with the pathetic urgency all young men seemed to possess in intimate situations. He groped around under her clothes and kissed her neck just long enough that he was sufficiently ready. Not that standing was a poor position for intercourse, but they left their shoes on which denied her any hope of satisfaction. At least it was over just as fast as it had begun. She pulled herself back together quickly as he leaned shakily against the wall smiling with great satisfaction.

No worse than her first. She thought. He shot her a look and hoisted up his pants angrily.

“Why did you let me do it then?!” He shouted. She forgot he might be able to read her thoughts.

            “We made a deal.” She moved for the door.

            “Did we?” He slammed her against the wall even harder than before, higher too. Her feet were off the ground and he wrapped his hand around her throat. That was a first for her. She might have put more effort in if he’d done this before. He was mad. The way a child feels slighted when they think they’ve won a game but didn’t.

            “Oh Phasma, I hoped there was more to you.” His eyes glared with anger at being slighted.

            “Are you going to kill me then?”

            He slid her down the wall as if there was no strain at all. He breathed in her ear. “Is that what you want?”

            “No. But you’re just like us all. It’s not your fault you’re an infant. Nothing but a masked baby following orders like the rest.”

            “I don’t have orders to kill you.” He whispered harshly against her neck.

            “Keep me occupied then?”

            Weex banged her head against the wall again. She only smiled and he had never been so let down. She was just playing a game. Keeping her end of a twisted bargain. He felt used and dirty. She was never going to trust him. She was never going to trust anyone. Trust was beyond her. He knew now that the shiny mysterious creature he had long admired was nothing but a puppet on a string. She was a campaign symbol. His disappointment was written all over his face. His young face that had eagerly begged his master for a bit of time with her. The young man was no Jedi, nor was he Sith. He used his power as a tool as he needed it. Power was not his objective in life. She had only one object in mind. To dominate.

            “Ren didn’t order me to do anything. I chose to accompany you. I’m here now because I wanted to be. I wanted you. I was wrong. I don’t want to play your games.” He released her slowly. His disgust evident. “You’re right.” He turned his back to her, “I had no idea what I was getting myself into.” She took her opportunity, thrusting her newest trinket against his arm before he even knew what hit him.

            “No. You didn’t.”

            Poor boy, she thought, as she stepped over him and left the room.

 


	7. The Evening on Cloud City: Four Months before Starkiller Completion

7

The Evening on Cloud City: Four Months before Starkiller Completion

 

The private cantinas on Cloud City were unmatched in amenities. Kylo Ren instructed the girl named Vanda at the door through his mask. He considered firing her for a different one, but she was so pretty, and so dumb, that he thought better of it.

The Bartender who doubled as a tour guide was busy preparing things for the night. Her hair cascaded down the side of her face in curls half hiding her facial tattoos. She didn’t seem to pay any attention to anyone unless they ordered a drink. Something about her was different. She was calmer. Her motions were fluid and elegant behind the bar, nothing like the tour guide of the day. The way she looked around the room was aloof and deliberate. Her gold gown went to the floor in a crimped elegant pattern that hugged her curves. She wore a jeweled bracelet and a very long jeweled earing that touched the top of her shoulder. He found himself watching her more than once from near the doorway.

            There was a gambling wheel complete with its own hostess, in the corner of the room. Elegant comfortable looking furniture was spread out around the cantina. A small band of three played quietly, but upbeat. The open floor in the middle was intended for dancing. Kylo Ren greeted the first few older generals who came through the door, then he sat at the end of the bar and stared out the window watching the sun set.

            “Can I get you anything?” Jes asked in a sultry voice.

            Kylo Ren turned to her, “No thank you, maybe later.”

            “Alright just let me know.”

            She moved back to the middle of the bar and served up drinks to everyone who came through the door. Xuzt and her husband looked like they were having a wonderful time. Ren wondered how they could spend so much time apart and still appear so much in love. They had a tender concern for each other. She was still the same person, but also, she was happier that night. They danced and spoke in each other’s ears and laughed. He liked seeing her like that.

            Hux had dragged two bimbos along and seemed to make a show of passing them around to dance with his fellow officers. Ren detested escorts. They were false. He didn’t see the point. He definitely was not interested in strangers touching him. After some time, the only members of their party who were missing were Yatley and Phasma. Ren was on edge, when Weex finally showed up dressed in his armor, Ren gestured for him to come over. Then pulled him quietly to the corner. His youngest knight wasn’t happy to be there after the events of his early evening, but he had a duty to perform.

            “I need you to follow everyone out tonight. Each time a guest leaves, you trail them, understand?”

            “Yeah I got it. How’s our peppy tour guide?” Weex motioned to Jes, who was putting on a little show of pouring and mixing cocktails.

            “Different. Either she was pretending then or pretending now.”

            “Or it’s all pretend. Ask Phasma.”

            “Listen to me. You need to focus and let that go. I warned you.”

            “I know, I know. I got it. I’m focused.”

            His mentor knew that was a lie. Weex was young. He’d have a little mark to remember Phasma by if he kept it. There were other scars unseen that Ren was more worried about. The room got livelier by the minute until a small commotion at the door turned the attention of everyone on that half of the room.

            “Let her in!” Kylo Ren called at the confused girl and the troopers at the door. The girl and guards immediately parted to let the tall blonde woman in the blue gown step in. He motioned for the guards to close the doors. Xuzt immediately approached Phasma and introduced her to her husband. Nii looked confused.

            “Who’s that?” Nii asked, tapping Hux on the shoulder.

            Hux turned to see, taking her in to view for the first time that evening. He was careful not to let his jaw drop, but feigned focus on his guests and General Wun and his wife, “Captain Phasma you idiot.”

            Nii wasn’t the only one who stood motionless to behold the rarity. All the male officers under fifty were in a kind of trance. Phasma’s hair was parted and slicked as it always was until it dried. But this time, the workers at the salon had fixed it to stay that way. Her face was done up around the eyes and lips, her complexion softened by whatever composite of dirt matched her complexion. She wore long elegant blue jewels from her ear lobes. The blue gown was loosely draped at the top and swooped over each shoulder, tapering in the back to below her shoulder blades. The bodice was fitted perfectly and clung and moved as she did at the waist and hips. The gown went all the way to the floor, billowing at the bottom and swishing with each step around her silver armored feet.

            Nii approached her cautiously, “I really didn’t think you’d do it.”

            “Well you were wrong,” Phasma said stone-faced, “Please stop gawking at me.”

            “I’m sorry. I’m just so shocked.”

            “What? You were expecting a hideous beast?”

            “Honestly, a little. Or at least some scars or something.”

            Phasma just stared at him until he apologized again and backed up against the bar.

 

            “Wow.” Jes stood at the end of the bar nearest to Kylo Ren for a better view. “She’s beautiful. I had no idea. Have you seen her much without her helmet?” The bartender’s curiosity was genuine and Ren smiled under his own mask.

            “Not much.”

            Jes moved quickly to do her job as Phasma approached, “Something fresh and without alcohol please.”

            “Sure,” Jes smiled at her and began work on her drink, handing it to her in record time and watching the object of her admiration as she moved back across the room.

            “Why do you like her so much?” Ren asked.

            “She’s fearless and one of a kind.”

            Ren smiled, “Only the best women are.”

            “And what about you?” Jes asked. “Do you admire someone fearless and one of a kind?”

            “No one I’ve met.”

            “A strange answer, but then I shouldn’t expect boring from you, should I?” Jes stepped back and surveyed the status of everyone’s drinks, motioning for the alien server to be more vigilant about glasses. “How about that drink?”

            “In a while.” Ren answered.

            Jes was immediately occupied again and General Wun and his wife moved to leave. Weex waited five seconds and then exited also.

            As the night went on Jes hardly seemed interested in getting much from Ren. He wasn’t sure what her strategy was, but he was beginning to get tired. It was a little quieter and most of the younger guests were around the gambling wheel. As if sensing she was losing him, Jes pulled up a chair next to him.

            “I’d love to know your life story,” she said it as if she didn’t really care either way.

            “I’m interested in yours.”

            “Is that so? So maybe you are more interested than your mask gives away?”

            “I’m interested in your brother.”

            Jes smiled as if he’d complimented her and shook her head. “I doubt that. How about I get you that drink now?”

            It was then Ren could sense it, fear. She was exactly the person he was looking for. He had no idea who the real Jes was, but he knew she had the information he needed.

            “How about you bring me a drink to my room when the last guest leaves here?”

            “That’s not really my job.” She smiled.

            Ren grabbed her wrist. “If you want to stay alive, you might consider being more open to new experiences.”

            “Wow, you don’t mess around do you?”

            “That’s how I stay alive.”

            Jes put her hand on his shoulder and pulled her wrist away slowly, walking back behind the bar. “Well maybe I stay alive by keeping myself to myself.”

            “Well tonight, if you don’t bring me that drink, you won’t be.”

            “Great.” She smiled.

 

            Ren hadn’t meant to threaten her so quickly, but he’d had a very long day. Across the room some of the youngest of the officers were getting a little drunk.

            “Walk away please.” Phasma ordered Torf.

            “Oh C’mon, you dressed up like that and you aren’t going to dance even once?”  
            “Not with you.”

            “Leave her alone Torf,” Hux said sternly from behind the little gambling station.

            “What would it take for you to dance with one of us?” Nii asked.

            “I think she should dance with Ren,” Hux said to the dice he was rolling.

            “I would pay good money to see Ren dance!” Ferdadlio laughed too loudly.

            Phasma shot Hux a look and he shrugged and nodded at the figure who was striding over to where Phasma sat by the window. He held out an open hand to her and she did not hide her irritation at being made a spectacle. As they approached the floor where Xuzt and her husband were still dancing, Phasma whispered through her teeth.

            “I don’t know how to dance.”

            “Well then, it’s a good thing I do.” Ren held up his arms and indicated Xuzt, “Just do what she’s doing.” Phasma felt her cheeks getting warm, knowing everyone was watching her in very unfamiliar territory.

            “I feel ridiculous.”

            “Well you look great, so there’s that.” He pulled her closer to him so that he could better lead her around. “Just follow my steps. Slow steps.”

            The man in black swayed back and forth very slowly until he could feel Phasma mimicking his movements.

            “Good. Now we’re going to move a little more. Feel the tension in my arm? It’s just like a fight, only instead of moving against each other, we move together.” Ren pulled her after him a few steps and turned. She followed his steps perfectly and he couldn’t help but appreciate what a chameleon she was.

            “Perfect. I’m going to spin you in place at the shoulders and then push back three steps. I’ll sway to the side, walk beside you and then pull you back into this position. I’ll go slow, are you ready?”

            “The swaying was much easier.”

            “Sure, but not as fun.” Ren timed it to the music and Phasma’s dress twirled at the bottom of her ankles. The fabric glistened under the lighting as she moved. The song ended and Ren took her hand, leading her off the floor. The officers whooped in response, and she bowed her head slightly to acknowledge their praise. Nii approached her and whispered something in her ear. She made a lopsided smile in response and mouthed a stiff thank you to Ren.

            “How drunk am I that that just happened?” Fedaldio laughed.

            It had put everyone in a jovial mood, but because Phasma was not about to be the life of the party, it also reminded them of the late hour. The night was still young for a few of them, and they were eager to get on with it. Weex rushed in and immediately engaged Kylo Ren.

“I have bad news,” Weex said quietly.

 

Hux couldn’t help but notice the two black figures speaking slightly more animated than usual. Ren motioned for Hux to join them, and he pretended he didn’t see.

            “Do you think she did it?” Weex indicated Phasma.

            “Not really. We’ll find out by the end of the night I hope.”

 

            “You really are as lucky as you say!” Hux pulled his winnings to his side of the table and the two girls giggled. “We should be heading down soon though. What say you ladies? Care to leave this stuffy little party with me?”

            “General Hux you know we would!”

            Kylo Ren took no time in venturing directly to his object.

            “Geez Ren, couldn’t this have waited a few minutes?”

            “Balcony, now.”

            Hux winked at one of the girls and made a face, “Apparently, I’m in trouble. Why don’t you run along and I’ll meet you there? Remember to take what you need.” He indicated the pile of winnings and they hungrily took a generous portion each. Hux did not hide his annoyance as he stepped out onto the small balcony alone with his masked male counterpart.

            “What’s wrong? The troops on that moon were fine an hour ago. I checked in.”

            Ren whispered something in his ear.

            “I want to see.” Hux demanded.

            “You’ll have to come now.”

            “It’s fine. Let’s go.”

            The two men crossed to the door and Hux pulled his two dopes aside, indicating the girls he’d been dragging around all day. They nodded and flashed Ren a suspicious look. Phasma stood from a chair and watched them go. Weex followed. She was glad to be rid of them and have some quiet. The music was nice.

            Phasma sat at the bar and played with her straw in the smoothie-like concoction Jes had handed to her.

            “Where are they going?” Jes asked the handsome woman.

            “I don’t know.” Phasma sighed.

            “Don’t you want to?”

            “I’m sure he’ll tell me eventually.”

            “He, being the General? Captain?”

            “Yes.” Phasma examined her former tour guide. Something about her was interesting. She couldn’t tell if it was the way she moved, or the way she seemed to see things.

            “For some reason, I thought you’d have black hair.” Jes volunteered.

            “That would be more intense.” Phasma met the woman’s eyes.

            “You seem sad. Want to talk about it?”

            Phasma furrowed her brows.

            “Hey,” Jes said, “I’m just doing my job, playing my part.”

            “I’m sure you are. I broke a heart today I think.”

            “I can see why that would make you feel bad.”

            “Or annoyed.”

            “Sure, I mean it’s never our fault.”

            “It was my fault. I used him. Unapologetically.”

            Jes laughed, “Well then, no regrets. Don’t let it spoil your evening.”

            “I hate this.” Phasma said quickly.

            “Which part?”

            “The clothes, the noise, the talking, the forced ‘fun’.”

            “What is your idea of a good time? Obviously not alcohol.”

            “It’s a recipe for disaster.”

            “But really, if you could do anything for fun, what would you do?”

            “I enjoy trees. And hunting. Seeing new places, how people live. I should go.”

            “I like watching people smile.”

            Phasma couldn’t figure out if Jes was teasing her. Jes grinned and touched her hand as she took her empty glass. Something warm and silly inside made Phasma’s lips curl slightly. Jes winked at her and turned back to her work. Had she spiked her drink? No. Phasma had tested it for poison before tasting it. She felt nothing as she turned away, and brushed it off as the lateness of the hour. It was well past her regimental bedtime, and it had been a tiresome day.

           

            Kylo Ren sat in his room waiting. He knew that the Mirialan woman knew better than to run. He had taken off his mask long before. It had been nearly an hour since he left the cantina. He was about to go in search of her, when a quiet knock came at the door. It opened and Jes entered holding two drinks on a tray. Ren stayed by the window, forcing her to walk forward and put the tray down. He could feel her eyeing his lightsaber laying on the bed.

            “What are you going to do? Pick it up and slice me?” The younger man asked.

            “I wouldn’t want to be liable for any damage.”

            “You think you’d inflict damage?”

            “I think you would. You’re one of the sloppiest fighters I’ve ever seen. What do you want?”

            Kylo Ren stood and turned to face her. The room was lit only by gases glowing in starlight outside the window. “Just some information.”

            “For what?”

            “I’m looking for your older brother Driveem.”

            “Well good luck finding him. I haven’t seen him face to face in two years.”

            “He’ll find you when you need him to, isn’t that right?”

            “What do you want with him?”

            “I’m looking for some specialized men.”

            “He’s not the joining type.”

            “Is he the revenging type?”

            “Kinda, why?”

            “How can I find him?”

            “I’m the only way. You can’t kill me, or you’ll never find him.”

            “Show it to me.”

            “I don’t know what you’re…”

            “Show it to me!” Ren barked.

            “I’ll let him know you’re looking for him. Please I just want to go.”

            Jes took a step to the door. Ren took a short breath and then leapt across the floor to her, igniting his saber. The red blade surged for her face and spit sparks and crackled as it clashed against her green blade. Ren smiled and hooked his on his belt as quickly as he had drawn it. Jes remained by the door, her green glowing blade drawn. She did not trust him. He examined her for a moment.

            “You’re a bounty hunter too. A Jedi turned bounty hunter, that’s interesting.”

            “I was never a Jedi. My father was.”

            “But he trained you to be. Put it away. I only want to talk about you and your brother.”

            “He trained us to be, but my brother fell in love. He moved on and had two children. You killed one of them at Luke’s temple. So, if he ever meets you, he’ll try to kill you.”

            “Oh.” Ren considered this and rested his fists against the window sill. Jes took her blade down and sat on the bed.

            “I’m sorry your friend got hurt, and the old man.”

            “How do you know about that?”

 

 

Hux stood facing the window with a drink in one hand. Phasma had returned to the cantina to retrieve her newest knife. The Officers had passed it around and admired it. It was soon to be standard for some of her more specialized troopers. Somehow, she had forgotten to get it back. She was so tired she almost didn’t return, but she was afraid it might go missing before the morning. She was surprised to find only Hux, and his glass.

“I’ve never known you to have two drinks in one night.” She observed.

He didn’t turn at the sound of her voice. She joined him at the large closed door of the balcony.

“General Yatley was poisoned,” he said it quietly.

“Dead?” She sounded genuinely surprised.

“Yes. You didn’t kill him, did you?”

“No. One of Ren’s men was poisoned as well.”

“If Ren would  have stuck with his room I suppose no one would have been affected. Is that why you spent so much time with his friend today? Were you watching him?”

“He promised to enlighten me about the force, in exchange for my…company.”

Hux was intrigued.

“And how did you find that exchange?”

“Satisfactory.”

He laughed in his drink, “That good eh? For some reason, I always thought you took care of that yourself.”

“It certainly is less messy.”

For some reason it made him glad to know that the shrouded black knight had failed to please her. He looked her up and down. She had taken off her jewelry and wiped her face clean. She had been stunning that evening. Everything about her had been elegant and feminine. The men had asked him if he’d ever seen her like that. He hadn’t. It was a bit jarring for him. He was proud that every single man in the room had been jealous that he knew her face, but he didn’t know that face. This was the face he knew, clean and serious. It didn’t bother him to have been attracted to her, just caught him off guard. She was a fine looking woman. He liked seeing so much of her skin, it reminded him that she was human, just like him. Humans were so strong, and so frail, depending on the day.

She was right, he rarely had two drinks. The truth was that officers being assassinated frightened him. It meant someone feared them, but it also meant he had reason to fear. He hated to admit weakness. If anyone knew of this, they would be perceived as weak. Hux looked down at the gas swirling below them. “I wish Ren had negotiated more of this for us.”

“Of the gas? Isn’t it better to let them feel comfortable?”

“I suppose.” He moved to the bar to set down his empty glass. He stood peering at it with his elbows resting on the edge of the polished metal. He continued to stare at the glass. The cantina was dark and empty, all the windows and glass providing a warm glow against the cold shadows, now the only moving things left in the room, besides the General and the Captain.     

“You’d tell me before going, wouldn’t you?”

“What makes you think I would leave?”

            “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re only here because you want to be. You’re like a caged gruvbian tiger, at any time during a performance you could disappear back into the jungle without a trace.” He pulled something from his pocket and held it up. It was her missing melee knife. She was surprised he was so transparent about where she stood. Why should she be surprised? He was intelligent and had never given her any reason to distrust him. He wasn’t ignorant. Their lives had both been filled with experience beyond their years. Tragedy, some would say. If you don’t know the difference it’s hard to have regrets. “I saw the burn mark on Natalallia’s arm earlier, I heard him talking to Ren.” He flicked the small weapon around in his fingers before extending it out to her. “Is that why he was so upset with you?”

            “It was a handful of things. Not the least of which was leaving him passed out in his own room to wake up with a headache.”

            “One of my favorites.” He nodded to the blade, “Good to know it works on force wielders just as well as anyone.”

            “He didn’t see it coming. He’s young. His feelings distracted him.” She took the blade from Hux’s hand gently.

            “No doubt your face distracted him.” Hux jabbed. “I saw you jumping off the top of the City.”

            “You almost sound jealous.”

            “You think I’d jump off a floating city?”

            “Only if you didn’t have a choice.”

            “Yes. That. I can withstand that weapon’s charge you know.”

            “What?” She scoffed, “Your mass is less than the knight, I doubt it.”

            He pushed back from the counter and held out his hands, “Try me?”

            “You’re drunk.”

            “Hardly. My nerves are steady. Try me. If I pass out you have to kiss me when I wake up. If I stay lucid I get to kiss you.”

            “Oh, my goodness you really are drunk. Either way I lose.”

            “Come on. If I disarm you, I’ll let you take my ship next month on your leave.”

            “Ren already promised me his,” she smiled, flicking the tiny weapon around and igniting it. Lunging for him.”

            Hux deflected her aim and shoved her against the counter hard. She tripped him, grabbing his collar, but he grabbed the wrist holding the glowing weapon with both hands as he went down.  He squeezed hard, and on any other human it might have caused a loosening of grip, but Phasma cracked her elbow against the side of his head before he could make any further efforts to take her instrument. She slashed at him twice and missed, screaming angrily and rushing him. He wasn’t intimidated and grabbed the fabric of her slick dress as he dodged and pulled hard enough to make her stumble.

            “Cheap move!” She said yanking the dress from his hands and coming within an inch of his face.

            “If it’s possible it’s fair,” He laughed, diving for her legs and grabbing for more fabric. She kicked him in the face, and he exhaled in pain but pulled her to the ground easily as she tripped over the flowing gown, losing her grip on the little weapon. She moved to grab it and he pounced on her back wrapping his arms around her firm body and digging his head into the side of her face. An action he instantly regretted. He could feel the blood running from his nose and the skin against his teeth raw from where her foot had met his face. She had recovered her object and pressed it into the side of his neck behind her. She had won, but she was not going to kiss him.

It was a perfect weapon. It could be concealed almost anywhere within folds of clothing. A thin piece of metal shaped like a crescent moon. It had two finger holes in the center that ensured a better grip. The metal blade was razor sharp and poked out from a casing of plastoid to protect the user from the real malice of it, the strange bolt of electricity that bent across the metal once ignited. The settings could be adjusted to kill or stun. On the lowest setting, it rendered a being Phasma’s size writhing in pain and immobile for several minutes. Typically, it knocked its victim unconscious. Phasma chuckled to herself when the band of electricity met Hux at the neck and she dumped his tensed body off her back. But he wasn’t unconscious.


	8. Intensity: Four Months Before the Completion of Starkiller

 Chapter 8

Intensity: Four Months Before the Completion of Starkiller

 

Hux lay on the ground at her feet as his body jolted and cramped with pain. His muscles were tensing and un-tensing sending jabs through his bones and up his spine. His head was cocked backward, face red, his teeth clenched involuntarily, stiff on the floor, but his eyes were fixed on her, half open, straining against the pain, proving to her that he would not yield. The cramping dissipated and his body once again relaxed, limbs still paralyzed. He moved his eyes from her, steadying his breathing.

            Something came over her watching him take the suffering with a kind of familiar ease. She was impressed, but more. She was attracted to him. Small, bald-bodied, red-headed, Hux.

He wouldn’t be able to talk for at least a minute more. It wasn’t often Phasma had found herself overcome by anything. Her sad encounter with such a strong sentient made her wonder now, _what would it be like with Hux?_

The disabled man concentrated hard, telling his consciousness to stay intact. He had practiced this a handful of times. He had won. He had beaten her at _something_. The truth was that he cared what she thought of him. They were not evenly matched, but as a man, he refused to be a loser. He was so satisfied he wanted to smile, but it would be a minute before he could move the muscles in his face and gloat a little. The drip of blood from his nose was beginning to tickle his lip. She stood over him, and all he could think about was who killed Yatley. If she had lied to him, he wouldn’t even know.

Phasma stepped over him with her left leg and sat well below his belt, straddling his pelvis with hers. His eyes were wide with a kind of concern she had never seen before. Was this his fear? He probably thought she might kill him.

Her blue silky dress billowed around them as she rested down to the floor, the metal armor on her boots making a soft clanking sound. She wiped the blood from beneath his nose with her thumb and dabbed it on his shirt. His breathing became more rapid, but his jaw was locked tight. She flicked her little weapon between her fingers and moved it in one quick motion up his chest, accidently nicking his chin. His lungs filled with air irregularly as she peeled the cut open shirt back from his torso. Only the slightest sound echoed in the back of his throat. She unbuckled his belt and his nostrils flared wildly as she ripped his pants apart with a sharp tug.

Because she didn’t dig her blade into him immediately, he took stock of the situation. She wasn’t going to kill him. She intended to do something else entirely. She had a slew of weapons between her legs on two sheaths that she fought to unbuckle, around all the absurd folds of her dress. He could feel the hard weapons against his legs. She had discovered in getting ready that the waistband of First Order standard briefs was able to be seen through the form-fitted shape of her dress, and opted out of wearing them. Convenient, she thought now, tossing the concealed weapon holders out from the gown. He was intrigued, shocked and disturbed all together. Hux’s attempt at communicating resulted in a sort of hushed slushing around his tongue.

            His legs were warm under her, hot, even through his pants. She ran her fingers lightly over his chest and down to below his belly button. Then she dragged each of her hands over his exposed skin making full contact with her palms and wrists. The action was having the desired effect. His skin was smooth and soft and covered in more scars than she had noticed before from a distance. His breathing was no longer panicked. He managed to pull his lips into a faint smug grin.

“I still can’t move,” he slurred, straining that any part of his body might start to follow his commands at any moment...

“Parts of you can…” His hips were narrow, and sliding his black attire off of  them took little effort, even if he couldn’t move his body. Phasma knew exactly what to do. It wouldn’t take long. She had made several acquaintances that were happy to satisfy her when she found herself wanting to mate. Not that she intended to create life. The first Order provided a cauterization process that ensured its female members did not have to worry about pregnancy. It could be reversed if need be. As Phasma in the big blue dress slid down on top of him Hux felt his nerve endings responding better instantly. She was warm and firm inside and his heart raced with automatic pleasure. His fingertips and toes gained feeling as if racing to catch up to the place where their bodies met.

Phasma moved her hips back and forth. His pants and briefs were only down as far as his knees, and though he could have easily allowed himself to take his climax and put an end to their encounter, he was unwilling to let the opportunity to prove his skills in this type of situation pass. He had a reputation he had worked hard for, one she knew little of, and the clumsy way she was attempting to leave him out of the experience- he did not approve. He concentrated hard and his limbs, much to his relief began to be on his side. Phasma’s eyes were closed, her hands gripped his shoulders. The quiet tapping of her metal shin guards bothered him.

He dug around under her dress for the hooks to the armor she wore and unlatched them with ease. She opened her eyes and watched as he flipped his right boot off using his left foot and fumbled his leg out of his pants and past his briefs just enough that he could widen the distance between his knees. Just for good measure, he rubbed his hands from her knees up past her hips to just below her waist and then back again before grabbing her behind her bent legs and scooting both of them back enough that his head rested against the couch at the base of his neck. He lifted his hips from the ground slightly and jolted her forward so that they were better aligned for maximum pressure.  She threw her hands out to brace herself against the couch.

“What are you doing?” She wondered why he might want his neck bent so awkwardly. He pulled her hands down to his chest. Her fingers were long and her hands were strong and the weight of her against him like this made him smile.

“Making this better,” he explained confidently. She rocked forward a little as if testing the difference and he raised his hips sharply in response to her movement. The unfamiliar  burst of electricity that radiated upwards between them forced her to once again grip the couch above his head. What was it? Mating had never produced such an intense bolt of unexplained energy before. Hux kept one hand against the lowest part of her spine and slid his other just above where they came together under their shiny tent of her dress.

“Come on,” he encouraged her in a low voice. She pushed her hips back and forth again but the effects were indescribable. She felt as if she were falling and flexing at the same time. Sexual encounters were always nice and satisfactory, she had never left wanting more. She didn’t know what this sensation was. His efforts seemed twice as powerful as hers and she gave up moving, choosing instead to hold herself rigid and wait for the feeling to build and swell again. One, two, three times, the hot flowing feeling climbed through her body and overtook the back of her neck. She was sweating. She felt she might break in half if it weren’t for the wonderful effects it had across her entire body. The fourth time the feeling came it lingered a little longer, making her feel as if her eyes were blurring at the edges. Hux knew that his efforts had worked as he had intended, and let himself release. The look on her face was helpless satisfaction as he held himself strong against her until her chest heaved an overwhelmed sigh. She closed her eyes and turned her face away laying her head against the couch above him.

“What was that?” She breathed quietly.

“The way it’s supposed to feel.” He lay his head back fully relaxed. The mark on his neck from her weapon stung against his fresh perspiration. He smiled to himself watching her as she caught her breathe slowly resting there.

She was so raw and powerful, and her bosom, covered in blue silk, was only an inch from his face. Her chest took deep steadying breathes in and out. His hands lay against her long warm legs under her gown. There was so much of her. She was so much woman. A fact he hardly thought about. Behind her mask, she was a killing machine, an elegant tool of destruction. Now she was a soft panting mountain of elegant evening wear.

“Thank you.” She sighed and rolled off him resting on the floor to his left. He lay there with his shirt and jacket parted. Bare skin exposed down to his ankles. His only body hair was on his head and around his genitals. Maybe there was some on his legs. She looked him over, marveling that a man who weighed less than she did could make her body feel the way he just had. She had never cared much for kissing, but she considered kissing his pinkish lips. No, she had said thank you, that was enough.

“Well that was unexpected.” He said looking down at himself.

“It’s never felt like that.” She said, covering her face with her hand.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He was surprised.

“Does it always feel like that for you?”

“It’s always better when it feels like that for you.”

“I didn’t know it could. How did you know what to do?”

“Practice, and a few good teachers.”

“My ears are tingling.” She said lazily, dropping her clipped accent on the first two words.

“I hope that’s not all that’s tingling.”

She didn’t respond. She was very still.

He reached to reinsert his foot into the right side of his pants. He buckled them closed, though there was a gaping hole where she had ripped his zipper apart. He sat on the couch to put his other shoe on.

She stood, gathering her sheaths and armor pieces. He bent down and handed her the little object that had inspired their interaction. They left together out the door and stepped into the elevator. She always stood behind him. Not this time. Phasma was regal and he was just as happy to stand behind and admire her from the back. He wanted to know what she was thinking. He wanted to know if this would affect what she thought of him. It was foolish really. Why had he just gone along with it, and made efforts to make sure it was so enjoyable? Just thinking about it made his loins burn slightly.

This was strictly against First Order policy, unless prior approval was obtained. Was he supposed to ask Snoke? Maybe that was only among lower officers. What was done was done, and it was amazing. Of course, he could never tell anyone. Phasma would kill him. Would Phasma kill him now anyway now that he had done what she wanted? He was afraid to close his hands too tight and take away the sensation of her skin against his palms and fingers. He wanted more. He wanted to know what was going on in her head. He wanted to know what possessed her to do it in the first place.

“I could help you out of your dress.” He offered innocently, “Unless you plan to call a droid.”

“Fine.” She said. She had a strange emotion. She hadn’t regretted the experience they had had, but it was like her body wasn’t finished, like she wanted more. She told herself it was time for sleep, that Hux would unhook her dress and she could go to bed. As they entered her quarters something felt different. She could feel his form standing behind her, lingering. The microscopic hairs on her body were standing on end.

Hux found himself in a dilemma. He wanted to do the sensible thing, a few hooks with one hand, bid her goodnight and never speak of what had just transpired again. He shouldn’t have let it happen in the first place. But, in his boots, standing behind her in her socked feet, his nose was just at her neck. He leaned in close behind her, she was still clutching the small arsenal she had previously strapped between her long legs. She probably wouldn’t mortally wound him, he thought. He breathed against her neck and pressed his lips against her back. She made no indication that she even felt his action and stepped forward dropping her weapons on the bed. He pressed the softest lights the room had to offer as she removed her socks.

“Have you seen me naked?”

Her question caught him by surprise. He was trying not to think about her bare figure just then. He could lie, but why? He’d never lied to her before. “Yes. I have access to everyone’s medical reports.”

“Even Kylo Ren’s?”

“No, Snoke keeps those to himself.”

“I don’t have access to yours.” She took a sanitation rag and wiped it across her face and neck and hands. He just stood there watching her. He didn’t want to leave. She took another wipe and pulled it under her dress. He wanted to look away, but he wasn’t sure why she hadn’t stepped into her sanitation chamber, that’s what it was for. Then she did, but not for long. He took a rag and sanitized his hands. She came out and stood in the middle of the room facing him.

She was unreal. She knew so many things about so many things, and yet he had been the one to please her. He wondered if she’d let him gaze on her once he unhooked her gown, or if she’d shew him away.

“Let’s play tag and down,” she mused. That was a game she trained her soldiers with. They chased the person who was it, the first person to catch and immobilize the person won. He’d never actually played, only watched. In this room, full of furniture and not sprawling with space he might  not be able to catch her without hurting himself. It was worth it to see her out of that dress, he reasoned, taking off his split shirt and jacket. She took her fighting stance and he was ready. She bolted toward the sanitation room and he was there much faster than she thought he would be. She leapt to avoid his grasp and succeeded, except for the trail of fabric she left behind as she escaped across the bed. He grasped hard and followed her, tugging

 as she led him around the room. She twisted to escape him, but he pulled her dress hard, stepping against her ankle. She cried out and hit the padded floor with a grunt. He sat hard on the small of her back and worked the hooks of her dress at light speed. She felt the freeing of the dress around her middle and Hux sat back, taking hold of the shiny thing by the skirt.

            “I wish you’d stop doing that.” She growled, sitting up and backing against him until his spine was shoved into the dresser opposite the bed. She was laying against his bare chest with her exposed back, angled so that her head was pressed against the side of his face. His legs had to spread wide to accomedate her frame being there.

            His chest was burning hot. She wondered why he was so keen to linger. She let the back of her head rest on his shoulder. Her cheek touched the place where she had shocked him just over a quarter of an hour ago. His hands reached cautiously to the open back of her dress against his stomach. She pushed him a little harder into the dresser and he exhaled. He slipped his hands up the sides of her garment and passed them along the front with no hesitation. His groin was tightening again in response to the touch of her skin.

            “May I ask, why you didn’t wear underwear tonight?”

            “It made lines in the dress and it didn’t look right.” She answered matter-of-factly. He nodded and squeezed his hands around her, wrapped his arms tight against her flesh. She was so full. Somehow it didn’t matter at all that her mass was greater than his. She was tense at his touch, but it didn’t deter him. “You feel as if you could do it again.” She observed, pressing her lower back against the hard part of his pants.

            “Anything you want,” He whispered against her neck.

            “How? It’s only been a quarter of an hour.”

            “Stamina?”

            “What would you do if I said you could stay longer?”

            He tried not to let himself get too hopeful. His answer had to be what she wanted to hear. “We could get this dress all the way off and I could show you more.”

            She was quiet for a few seconds, “Alright.”

            She stood, though she hated tearing away from his warm upper body. She turned as she stood and dropped her dress to the floor. She slid the items from the bed onto the floor and sat back against the pillows expectantly.

            Hux had his boots and pants removed before she finished settling in. He removed his socks as he stepped to the bed and crawled towards her.

            “You’re glorious.” He said softly as he sat next to her.

            “Despite your size, I enjoy looking at, and touching you.”

            “Despite my size? It’s a good thing I’m not insulted easily.”

            “I’ve only had sexual relations with a handful of men, you should consider yourself privelaged.”

            “Oh, I do.”

“What happens in Cloud City, stays in Cloud City, or I will kill you.”

“Of course,” He tried not to grin like a fool. He pulled his eyes slowly across her outstretched body. She was as perfect as a woman could be. She was shapely and lean and fit. She may have been tough, but her curves were soft and sloping. He had read her medical reports a few times before. Let himself scan her body, because he could, in the privacy of his personal chambers. This was really something. This was a like a dream come true, a dream he’d never even dared to entertain. Well maybe once or twice.

            “Close your eyes, and try to relax.”

            “What are you going to do?” She looked into his face, drawn in again by the shape of his lips and the slope of his nose.

            “Can you just let yourself trust me?”

            “I suppose,” she said closing her eyes.

            He climbed carefully onto her abdomen and caressed the sides of her neck. She wasn’t sure what his goal was, but his hands were hot and smooth and he worked his fingers into the muscles below her ears in a way that made her feel open to whatever he aimed to do. To her surprise, he took his time. He massaged her muscles in a  methodical and kneading motion. The strangeness was that the longer he touched her, the more she wanted him to touch her. He ran his hands through her hair and against her scalp. He rubbed her arms and shoulders thoroughly. Then he worked her upper and lower legs. He asked her to turn over and ran his hands across her back and neck and buttocks and then asked her to turn over again. It should have bothered her. She had never really cared for excess human touch, but his hands were strong and hot and smooth and he seemed to know exactly where to spend the most time. When he moved to touch her feet she opened her eyes.

            “What are you trying to do?”

            “Does this not feel good?”

            “Yes, but a droid could do this.”

            “Should I stop then?” He asked, pressing his hands against the sides of her foot firmly and squeezing down to the toes. She closed her eyes again.

            “No. You’ve read my massage readouts.”

            “Maybe.” She could hear the smile in his voice. She would have been more annoyed if the sensation of his hands was not so pleasant. When he had rubbed nearly every inch of her body and was quite at ease, she could feel the exact spots that hadn’t been touched by his hands. She’d never had that much human contact. She had never wanted or needed it. He slid his hands up to two of the spots he had avoided in the middle of her chest.

He moved the slowest there. His hands groped gently, but with purpose until she thought she might ask him to stop since it was only making the only part of her body that he hadn’t touched with his hands feel very neglected. She had never spent this much time naked with a man in her life and he seemed to be drawing it out unnecessarily. That’s when he started to get to the point. He didn’t ask, so when his hand did touch the one part of her, between her legs, that he hadn’t touched she was bothered.

            She opened her eyes as she snapped a hand on his wrist, “What are you doing?”

            “Trust me.” He insisted. What he was doing was new, and not in a good way. Her encounters with men were short and to the point. He had taken the time to put his hands across every inch of her body, and now it was as if he didn’t intend to finish? She was curious enough that she let him fumble around for a few minutes before he somehow arrived at his object.

If someone had described what Hux did with his hands to her, she would have flatly refused. She was glad he hadn’t. If the feeling in the cantina had been great, this was unimaginably even more. He knew exactly how to make her body succumb to things, that until that night, had been just a whisper to her. She was so overcome that she had allowed him to use his lips at will over the front of her body. She kept one arm planted firmly over her eyes. The other had found its way to gripping Hux’s shoulder. She had no control, and inadvertently squeezed against his upper bicep until each of his efforts was exhausted.

Hux discovered that in this kind of situation, When Phasma said, “No” softly over and over, she really meant, “yes please”. He had kept it going until she pushed him back and exclaimed in an accent he had never heard her employ, ‘Please stop.” She turned over onto her stomach away from him. He had achieved his object once again. She wiped her face with the edge of the sheet. He hoped he hadn’t overwhelmed her. If he’d pushed her too far she might really be done. The difficult thing about pleasing a woman was holding out for the perfect moment to finish yourself, he well knew. He had had years of practice. He reached for a sanitation wipe. Seeing her like this, helpless and panting from his own handiwork - he was more than ready for his turn.

“Are you alright?” he asked placing a hand on her back.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she breathed. He gave her another moment before gently kissing her back a few times and moving behind her delicately. He ran the tips of his fingers along her inner thighs.

            “It’s too much.” She sighed, in her familiar influctuations.

            “Take a minute, I haven’t had my turn.”

            He was right. He had spent a good amount of time pleasing her. It was only fair if she allowed him to finish. She felt so sure that it would be too much contact, but reluctantly slid her hands forward to brace herself at the headboard, lifting her back end only slightly. He wasn’t going to get too much help from her, she was weak in the knees.

There was just so much of her, so much to touch and see and appreciate. He had brought this powerful invincible being to her knees, begging for him to stop. She wasn’t prepared for the tight treat that was to follow. As it turned out, neither was he. Being shorter than she was, he had to use the footboard to brace himself against with his toes and he was barely able to rest his knees on the bed. As he made full bond he found himself a little disoriented. She hoisted her body sharply up in a way no other female had ever done, rendering him suspended in the air with only her firm backside, and his toes, as an anchor. It was beyond anything he’d ever experienced. The tightness, her strength, the sensation that drove him was like entering hyperspace. Even his vision clouded several times and her gentle grunting only egged him on until he thought his eyes might bulge from his head. The feeling of climax was elevated in a way he’d never experienced and it felt as though he were exiting an atmosphere locked against her. She offered so much resistance that he thought he might double backwards, unable to handle the excellent intensity of the experience.

            They collapsed together against the bed and the skin between them stuck wet and sticky. He could hardly lift his head up, so he just lay there. After what felt like ages he rolled off her, leaving the front of his body chilled. She rolled onto her back staring at the ceiling.

            “That was the best,” He panted.

            “It felt like you were touching my throat from the inside.”

            “Yes.” He marveled.

            He let his body regulate temperature by laying motionless on the bed for a while. He didn’t know what to say for the first time in his life. He didn’t want to leave. He wished he was still touching her. He tried to calculate how he would even be able to sleep. He’d probably just replay their evening over and over in his head until he could make sense of it. It still didn’t feel real. He looked over her long bare body as she stared at the ceiling. She was perfect.

            “Well that was enlightening.” Phasma’s voice broke the silence. “I’m thirsty.”

            She stood and crossed to the water bottles in their cooling cupboard. She smiled widely before took one out and drank it slowly until it was half gone.

            “What’s so amusing?” Hux asked sitting up on his elbows.

            “I can hardly walk.”

He stood and crossed shakily to join her, finding that his blood was imbalanced across his body, his muscles tired and twitching. In his younger days, he could have easily performed three times in a half hour. It had been years since he’d had the opportunity. She handed him her open bottle, which he gratefully took and drank slowly. She watched his lips around the bottle and could almost feel the places he had pressed them and sucked them to her skin. She had always thought he’d be cold and boney. He may have looked cold and boney, but he felt searing and substantial.

He wondered what she could possibly be thinking now, as she watched him finish her water. He still didn’t know what to say. He crunched the bottle and tossed it into the compactor opening.


	9. Intimacy: Five Months Before the Completion of Starkiller

Chapter 9

Intimacy: Five Months Before the Completion of Starkiller

 

“You know, you still haven’t given me the kiss I won.”

            “You don’t feel sufficiently rewarded already?” Phasma said doubtfully.

She looked down at him and glanced at his lips. She had never found kissing very likeable. She had tried, but it just wasted time. She thought maybe it was meant for more emotional attachments, which she’d never really had in a sexual partner. But Hux was different. She’d thought about him and his tight pink lips. He’d gotten much more than he bargained for already, but then so had she. She looked at his lips again.

She leaned down to him. Something made her stop, just before her lips touched his. It would be a very dull end to such a fun night to kiss him now. He was ready, eyes closed. When it didn’t come, he opened his eyes. She pulled her face back from his. This was going to mess everything up. He looked at her. At her wild hair. Her lips, her nose and eyes. He’d never looked at her like that before. He reached up and touched her cheek so gingerly that if she didn’t know any better she would have thought he had thought about this before. She made the mistake of looking him in the eyes just a little too long. He had that fire in his eyes, that confident intensity she admired so much. She leaned closer and as soon as her blonde eyelashes closed he moved the final inch to close the gap between their lips.

It was softer than she expected. Their lips melted together. She let her lips rest against his twice before he pulled her against him as if he’d been waiting to for a long time. Of course, he hadn’t really, but the gravity of what they had just done, twice, moved upon him to at least see what it would be like to really kiss her. It was fantastic. Kissing was something reserved for people you cared about, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be enjoyed by two people who had already gone as far together physically, as two people could go.

Perhaps it was because they had just shared pleasures of the flesh on a level neither of them had reached before. Perhaps it was years of working together side by side and never once broaching the subject. Perhaps it was something on Cloud City they hadn’t found all day, that now had been a craving satiated. Hux had experienced what he considered to be love, and the thrill of a first kiss that lingered within, and made days feel more open to promise. This was something else.

Phasma had never longed for deep human connection and had always considered herself beyond such attachments, but the foreign feeling she’d been having around Hux had caught up with her. She expected all kisses were the same, they had no depth for her. They did little to inspire the conquering feeling she got from mating. But Hux’s body was so soft and hot. He didn’t feel like the slight man she had worked side by side for so long. It might have just been the erotic high she was on, but when their lips touched it created a drop in her stomach as if she were diving in a small spacecraft through an atmosphere. Her chest was warmed within like the effects of alcohol, and she hadn’t had any.

General Hux preferred to be in charge. It didn’t matter how lovely he thought Captain Phasma’s nude medical report photo was, her height alone had kept her from being an object of interest for him. Hux preferred to be taller, and look stronger than any woman he was with. The odd thing was, he truly enjoyed caressing her lips with his. He couldn’t believe he’d ever thought her standing over him was something that might bother him. Her hair was soft in his fingers. It might have been the euphoria talking, but he loved standing there just kissing her, almost as much as he’d enjoyed everything else. Kissing was usually a means to an end. Not here. He’d had his end, and he’d definitely made sure she had hers. But her lips were the perfect balance of tender and timid and he wanted to explore them longer.

Kissing with someone else’s tongue had never been something Phasma wanted to experience, but, listening to mating being described for the first time was equally revolting. So, standing there naked against Hux when the edge of his tongue rubbed against her lips, suddenly she was very open to the idea. It really was turning out to be a bizarre day. Goosebumps tickled across her skin. It was late.

“Are you cold?” Hux’s whispered words formed a valid question, and she was, but to halt now posed a serious question, should they stop? Though her towering body was chilled on one side, wherever his body met hers she was toasty and comfortable. He kissed her again more forcefully, stepping forward and forcing her to stake steps back until her calf bumped the bed. She wasn’t about to submit to him, on the bed or otherwise. She shoved him with both hands knocking his shoulders back. He looked confused for a half second, then he moved to slap her face with an open hand and she blocked him, going for his groin, which he blocked in turn. He smiled, and with a ferocity she recognized as a challenge they engaged in a strange openhanded fight the way the children Stormtroopers were trained. Besides their hard attempts to land a hand against each other, kicks and elbows were thrust in every direction. They knocked each other hard against furniture and tripped over Hux’s boots. They slipped on Phasma’s dress and each delivered a handful of hard contact smacks that left red welts on the other’s bare sweaty body.

She threw him so hard onto her bed that he almost slid off the opposite side. She jumped and landed predator like on top of him. Any less coordinated person might have knocked him in unspeakable places. She wanted to hurt him. She wanted to make him beg for mercy, just because she could, but he lifted his chin up to hers again and the feeling of his tongue in her mouth made her want something else instead. Why had this never happened before? His hands digging through her hair and his thighs squeezing against hers soon had her wanting him inside her again. What was going on? This was General Hux, bare bodied, pale, thin Hux. But his buttocks felt so good against her hands. She could have easily thrown him off the bed, knocked him unconscious, even broken his neck. His lips and tongue against her neck put that thought right out of her head again. Why did she feel so different? So extraordinary? She began to think it was the place.

Hux had never enjoyed locking lips with anyone so much in his life. Her entire body locked with his so easily. She was missing a tooth in the back of her mouth, and she didn’t mind when he ran his tongue across the spot. He never imagined that her lips were so satisfying under her serious chrome exterior. He had hardly ever even thought of her as a woman. Oh, but she was the mightiest of women. It didn’t take long before he was ready for another round of full intercourse. It had been years since he’d had so many chances in so little time – and taken them. Hux pulled back trying to catch his breath, resting his cheek against hers. They were in a perfect position, heads at the end of the bed. He got more excited in anticipation.

“Can we scoot down and-?”

Phasma threw her arm across her eyes, “Just do it.” She said sharply. She was beginning to lose patience with herself. She’d have to put a stop to this eventually.

Hux nudged her down until the distance felt right, taking each of her legs in the crook of his arms until her knees were pulled back to near her chest on each side. The fascinating thing about intense climax was the way it jolted, comparable to electricity. Hux’s hips dug so deep and his body fell forward against the flexing muscles of her deeply bent legs. As if she had no control of her arms, they pushed back against his bare chest leaving her afraid to breath in a kind of overstimulated shock. It didn’t let up. Hux knew what he was doing, she was completely vulnerable. Her vision blurred and she threw her head back unable to do anything but react to the swarms of pleasure.

He was counting. Counting the number of times her eyes rolled back into her head and her neck jolted. Counting the number of times she flexed all her internal muscles against his. At five something streamed from her eyes he didn’t think she was capable of. Yes! Helpless pleasure.

“No!” She said again in that accent he had never heard her use. Her true voice. She said it softly a few more times. He couldn’t hold off any longer. Seven. Could that be right? His knees buckled and he was barely able to pull his arms back, falling forward against her warm damp skin. Her arm was back over her eyes. She had the most fierce and beautiful blue eyes. This time was definitely his favorite. He rolled over completely, waiting to get some kind of feedback. She was trying to slow her breathing. He could see a line of clear salty water from behind her arm that came to the edge of her ear. Her hairline was moist. Her hand reached for his arm and gripped it tightly, then relaxed as if that was all the thanks she could offer. It was more than enough.

Forget the First Order. Maybe he’d just kidnap her and fly back to that moon Ren had taken them to. He’d live out his days showing her the meaning of life. That would make a great story. His body was numb. He’d never been aware of his fingernails before, but now they buzzed with satisfaction.

Satisfaction was a funny word. It should be a good thing. But it was the word Phasma used if something was only good enough, and she didn’t feel like expounding on the negative. Phasma finally wiped her eyes now that they had stopped their absurd leaking. If there were ever a reason for crying, this was a good one. One she’d never heard of, but must be more common than she thought. She wanted to ask Hux questions. She wanted to know exactly how and when he’d figured out the things he knew. How he knew how to please her, but that was much too intimate. She wasn’t looking to relate or connect. It didn’t lessen the throbbing contented feeling that made her want to close her eyes and never move. She needed another shower. Her hand was still touching his arm. It felt good to still be touching him. Pathetic. She pulled it back abruptly to her own thigh.

The red-headed General closed his eyes. The grin on his face couldn’t be helped. He felt as if he were being rocked to sleep, the way the ocean lapped it’s waves up on a sandy shore. His skin bubbled beneath the surface where the edge of her hand lay against his. There wasn’t enough space for their hands not to touch.  He needed another drink of water, but he didn’t dare move. He thought about the first time he saw her, wearing some kind of red wrapped fabric under borrowed trooper armor that was much too small. She had brought a little girl, who had turned out to be a very competent soldier. Unfortunately she perished in a training exercise. Some said Phasma did it, but Hux knew differently. He remembered the day she heard the news. It had affected her. Three units had especially mucked up their training and she said nothing but, “Unsatisfactory and had left it at that.”

He was so pleased with himself. He had no idea how they could go back to business as usual after this, but he mused that he’d have the sound of her saying “no” lingering in his head for a very long time. He wasn’t sure if he could still walk. Oh well. He’d much rather sleep here, maybe Phasma would wake him up for more.

“Leave please,” Phasma’s voice was calm and fatigued.

“I’m not sure if I can walk back to my room.”

“Well you’d better be gone by the time I’m done in the refresher.” She stood up without looking in his direction and closed the door to the bathroom behind her.

Hux wasn’t going anywhere. Since when did she give him orders? Well he was technically in her room. He hobbled slowly to fetch another bottle of water. His legs were jelly. The water soothed his swollen tongue like a cool spring. Liquid was a magical substance. He pulled on his bottom clothing and chuckled over his ripped zipper. If she took a hot shower she’d be even thirstier than he was when she got out. He refused to just disappear. If this was a one time thing it was fine by him, but he wasn’t about to go slinking away without making sure she acknowledged the last hour and half. He took another bottle from the little door, wondering if the bathroom was unlocked. He had to urinate. It felt like a day since he had stood finishing his second drink alone in the cantina above them.

The sanitation door was locked. Hux set the bottle of water on the table next to the bed. He couldn’t be surprised. Hux opened the wardrobe, Phasma’s chrome helmet sat on the top shelf. Her armor was placed in order below, on the smaller shelves next to her hanging black uniforms. He closed the door hastily when he heard the water stop. He had no reason to stay. He’d served a purpose to her, and his purpose was finished.

 

“So you’re waiting for a call from Snoke?” Jes asked the sad man in black.

“Yes.”

“So is it true if he dies you’re the next in line to be Supreme Leader?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Maybe? Well it isn’t Hux, and it isn’t Phasma, or any of the nice dopes I met tonight.”

“That’s not an open topic right now.”

“Probably because of how true it is?”

“What does that mean?”  
“I mean, the old ruler doesn’t talk all about the person who’s about to be their successor, _right_ before it happens.

“Do you know something I don’t?”

“I’m just saying that from a few certain points of view, you’re next in line, sooner than you think.”

“What certain points of view?”

“From the view of the resistance sympathizers who know who you are, which aren’t many, General Organa is the rightful leader, and you’re her son. You’re the grandson of Vader on the other side, Snoke’s number one apprentice, that anyone knows of. I just think if you did kill Snoke and steer the Galaxy, you might not have as much push back as you think.”

“I don’t think. I’m not going to kill Snoke and take over the First Order, that sounds insane. How do _you_ know who I really am?”

“Well you might not have a choice soon, so maybe examine that option. There are still people in the Galaxy old enough to remember. Not many of them believe you are still alive, most think you died like the others at Luke’s training center, and that’s why Luke disappeared, because of guilt.”

“How do you know all this?”

“Kylo Ren, if there is one thing that is true, there is no such thing as a secret as long as people like you and me exist.”

“No one can kill Snoke.”

“There are people who want you dead because they perceive you as the next in line Kylo Ren. There are more people who want Snoke dead, and this week the hot ticket seems to be Hux and Phasma.”

“Hux and Phasma?”

“Yeah, I don’t know why. I just know it pays the bills.”

“For who?”

“Bounty hunters here on Cloud City.”

“You know for sure someone is trying to kill Hux and Phasma tonight?”

“I know they tried, that’s how your friend was hurt.”

Ren leapt across the bed at Jes, grabbing her shoulders and shaking hard.

“Who?”

“No one anymore. There hasn’t been an opportunity. I mean the night is still young and I’ve been trapped here with you but…”

Ren let her go and sat back on the bed.

“What’s wrong?” Jes asked, trying to sense his thoughts.

“Stop that. I’m just tired. Tell me about your brother.”

“He’s a justice warrior. People call him when they need someone eliminated. Someone bad. Someone he thinks is part of the problem.”

“Everyone we’ve spoken to says he never loses.”

“That’s true I’m sure. You want to recruit him to your Knights don’t you?”

“I heard he’s the kind of person who inspires people, in a quiet way.”

“That’s true. But I doubt he’d be interested considering what you did to his son. His son Quel was a padawan at Luke’s temple.”

“I remember him.”

The halodeck blipped and Kylo motioned for Jes to shush.

“Hello Ren. It’s been quiet from you for a day, no one seems to be able to account for your whereabouts.”

“We took a detour. General Hux thought the army could use a rest, Captain Phasma agreed. We have a select group of officers with us on Cloud City, we leave tomorrow at eleven-hundred.”

“Hux thought the army needed a rest?” Snoke chuckled, “That’s what you’ve told everyone I assume. Where is the Finalizer?”

“Completing a light training exercise orbiting a tranquil moon.”

Snoke laughed, “If you’re not careful, someone will think you are doing exactly as you please.”

“Supreme Leader,” Ren’s tone was even, “The troops have performed admirably and I had a lead on Master Skywalker’s location I needed to follow.”

“I don’t question your motives my cunning apprentice. How has this boosted moral?”

“Considerably. We return tomorrow a day ahead of schedule.”

“Excellent,” Snoke paused as if trying to read something in his student, “Well, I look forward to a full report tomorrow.”

The image of Snoke blinked off, and Ren sat back against a pillow, tossing the device onto the side table.

“ _You_ orchestrated this?” Jes asked sitting up with interest. “You haven’t been sleeping well have you? There are things you want.”

“Everyone wants something.” Ren sighed.

“Come on, I can help you. You know why my people were almost eliminated by the Empire. Let me in and I can speak some peace to your mind.”

“I’m not interested in you being in my head.”

“Well I’m interested. I’ll contact my brother if you let me see.”

Ren met her eyes with curiousity. “Only if you let me first.”

“Sure. I have nothing to hide.” She sat on her knees facing him. He sat up slightly and reached out his hand to her temple. Her mind was clear and strong. She wasn’t exactly an open book, but he could feel she wasn’t a devious person. That surprised him. In his experience, women were mostly selfish or deceptive. She had loved and lost, but she wasn’t lonely. He was lonely. He hadn’t thought he was, but this woman was comfortable and content. She had some harbored anger and strong sense of justice, but there was mostly kindness and curiosity.

“Fine, if you can help me focus, I’ll allow you to,” he lay back lower on the bed and closed his eyes. Jes scooted forward, taking a deep breath and placed her hands on either side of his head. He knew she was a few years older than he was, maybe the same age as Hux, but that didn’t matter to him if she was the person he was looking for.

“I’m not the person you are waiting for. I see your vision, and it’s definitely a girl.”

“How do you know it isn’t you?”

“Because when you find her, you’ll know for sure.”

“Snoke has warned me of someone who would rise to meet my darkness.”

“Your darkness? Your mind, it’s so compartmentalized. Wait, oh, this is what you show Snoke…age is tempering you Solo.”

“That’s not helping.”

“Sorry, give me a little longer. Actually, I think more of that might help you.”

“My father?”

“Your past. It’s like you’ve packaged it up nicely and hidden it away as if it didn’t matter, and it does. Geez you’re isolated. Something you didn’t mind a few years ago I’d guess.”

Jes pulled her hands away and closed her eyes.

“So, I don’t understand. That was pointless.” He scowled.

The Mirialan placed her hand on his forehead and rested her eyes against her other hand.

“You have all these feelings of betrayal and resentment, but it isn’t your anger that drives your power, it’s your passion. You’re passionate because you care, despite what you tell yourself. You need to stop waiting for others to give you permission to act in your best interest. Your past is holding you back. You can’t just ignore where you came from or why.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“Hey, it’s not like anyone forced you to make any of your decisions. The sooner you can acknowledge the things you’ve learned from your past, the sooner you can make peace with it and let it go.”

“The things I’ve learned? That neglect is a part of life?”

“There is so much here. It’s something you’re going to have to take some time for. Meditation, contemplation, seeking for wisdom, over demanding justice.”

Jes pulled her hand away abruptly. Kylo Ren faced the window and sighed heavily.

“Do you know my father?” he asked quietly.

“No, but I’ve seen him a few times over the years. Only a few weeks ago actually.”

“Where?”

“Outside a little hole in the wall on a planet near the Outer Rim.”

“How do you know it was him?”

“It’s hard to miss a Wookie.”

Ren scoffed.

“I can put you to sleep if you want.” Jes offered. “But until you draw some serious conclusions and move on, you’ve plateaued. You’re stuck in your state of mind. I can see you want to move on, but you have to go back a little first.”

“Easier said than done. Alright. Go ahead.” The dark haired man settled back comfortably. Mirialans were a spiritual people, connected to the living force and taught from a young age. There weren’t many left of their species in the Galaxy after the Empire razed their planet, but they managed to stay connected to each other. There was something to that, Ren thought. Jes seemed to have a balance within her that Kylo Ren was jealous of. He was sure she could feel at home anywhere. He had never felt that. He closed his eyes and allowed her to put his consciousness to rest.

A good night’s rest could solve a lot of problems. He might take her advice. Probably not. Snoke had insisted he leave the past far behind him and move on. That never kept Snoke from bringing it up to help stoke Ren’s power. It wasn’t right to insist that your emotions be hidden as Luke once had. It wasn’t honest. It was his constant secret keeping and pleasing his parents that had driven him to loathe his lonely home life. They hadn’t been in a hurry to ever please him, why had he taken so much care to be what they wanted? Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader of the Galaxy? His father would find that amusing. Of course his mother would love nothing more than for him to follow in her footsteps. Never. His thoughts were pulled away and he could feel sleep taking over.

 

Hux peeked into the hallway. Silence. As he stepped out to pass the elevator someone opened the door of Ren’s chambers. It was the Mirialan bartender. Her hair was not as smooth as it had been. She didn’t look ashamed, she looked surprised to see him there. She walked towards him to the elevator. He passed by as stoicly as possible in his sliced open shirt. Something had dropped from his coat. She waited until she heard his room close, then moved to pick up the black glove from the floor. Jes almost jumped back into the room of Kylo Ren.

“What is it?” He snapped into an alert sitting position.

“General Hux just left Phasma’s room, and he dropped this.”

“It isn’t unlike them to have meetings in his quarters.”

“Does he often sneak around wearing ripped pants and a cut-open shirt?”

Ren considered this, “You don’t think they might have…?”

“I’m going to go check the security cameras.” Jes volunteered, tossing the glove on his bed.

“I’m coming with you.”

“You don’t need to do that. I’ll return and report.”

Kylo Ren stood examining her. Something was amiss. “What are you hiding?”

“Nothing, come if you want, but it’s going to take time and you need rest, I can help you get back to sleep before I go. I can show you what I find in the morning.”

“You don’t’ want me to watch you go through the footage. Then I’ll know who tried to poison them.”

“Fine. I did. Twice, but Phasma cleared out her room each time she returned to it and had her water replaced.”

“A fact you weren’t planning on telling me.”

“Why would I tell you? It would have only made you mad. And it doesn’t matter because I failed.”

“You dirty bounty hunter. I hate Mirialans, that’s why Vader had your planet scorched. Where is my lightsaber?”

She pulled it from under the holster in her dress and handed it to him reluctantly.

“What did you plan to do with it? Keep me unarmed and kill me in my sleep?”

“No! Sell it on the black market. It would have more than made up for the bounty I couldn’t get tonight.”

Ren holstered it angrily and scooped up his helmet.

 “I’m definitely coming with you. And you’re sleeping in my room tonight.”

“Not a chance.” She protested.

“You don’t have a choice.” He hissed behind his mask, pointing in the direction of the door. Had he been completely wrong about her? His head was a mix of more questions than before, and he did not appreciate her stealing from him.


	10. What Happens in Cloud City: Four Months before the Completion of Starkiller

Chapter 10

What Happens in Cloud City: Four Months before the Completion of Starkiller

 

The guards at the security hub stood in their way for a few seconds, looking Kylo Ren up and down. They looked to Jes and waited for an explanation.

“He’s helping me with a code 43. How are things tonight?”

The first guard didn’t seem convinced but he and the other guard smiled in answer to her inquiry. “Nothing too special. You know, now is when the fun happens. Code 13 and 27, and it’s only 1:30. Have fun.” The guard punched in a sequence and the door slid open to reveal three different alien species each watching a set of screens. One of them stood and held his hands up, nudging his friend in the chair in the middle.

“Don’t say it Neem,” Jes stopped him, looking to the being farthest from them. “First Order Rise Cantina, 9 to now?” The alien called Neem sat down and pretended to be just as focused on his work, but he was stifling a smile and glanced more than once in the direction of the hooded pitch-shrouded man Jes was with. Neem was a good-looking humanoid, bluish and scaly. The four armed being in front of them pulled a pad, clicked a series of buttons and pointed to one of the six doors, handing the screen to them as they walked between he and Neem. They entered a small closet-like space lit only on the floor. Jes pulled the pad up and squinted.

“This seems like a terrible place to work.” Kylo Ren said, as the doors closed behind them. The blueish light almost hurt his eyes even through his mask.

“It is definitely not for everyone.” Jes scrolled through the footage. “Did you understand what they said?”

“Code 43 – Infidelity issue. Code 13 – Vomit in an eating area. Code 27 – Streaking by a usually clothed sentient.”

“Good memory ‘Oly’. And here I didn’t even think you had a chance to read the manual.”

“How else would I have gotten the job?”

She shook her head scrolling faster with her finger through the footage.

“Here. Hux came back in the cantina after I left. He poured himself a drink and picked up Phasma’s knife. Um.” She turned and handed him the pad for him to see for himself.

“That’s not what I expected.” His voice was a little disturbed.

She watched over his shoulder as he navigated the cameras in the elevator and the hallway outside her room. He watched Hux return to his room and handed it back to her. He pulled a chip from a pocket.

“Put everything on this. Then erase all of our activity from your archives.”

“It resets every day rotation. It automatically clears.”

“Do it now.”

“I can’t until tomorrow morning at seven.”

“What is so special about seven?”

“That’s just the way the system is. Lando had it designed so that hasty decisions couldn’t be made when it came to deleted footage. At the same time, footage is only saved for twenty-four hours before it’s automatically deleted, so if you need evidence for something you don’t have time to give it a second thought.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“What, to have the proof of your deeds so easily erased?”

“Something like that. Let’s go. I don’t know If I’ll ever get that image out of my head.”

“Can I at least get some clothes to change into?”

The man in black put his helmet back over his head, looking her up and down from behind his mask. “No.” He was still angry with her. She was the reason he couldn’t put his trust in anyone. Phasma was right, he always put his trust in the wrong people, every time.

 

Hux lay alone in the dark unable to close his eyes. He was no stranger to people close to him suddenly disappearing. Yatley was never at the forefront of anything, but he got things done. He knew where to place the right man for a job. He was no great speaker, but he always knew who would say the right thing. He’d always been one to put Hux in the limelight, to give him a chance. He and Sloane were two people who had believed in him. Now they were both gone. What good was killing poor Yatley? He wasn’t especially important or knowledgeable. What an inconvenience. If Ren hadn’t switched rooms it would have been him poisoned. Or would it? No. If they had stuck with their original arrangments it would have been himself and Phasma. What if someone was still after them?

Hux lept out of bed and retrieved a kit from the bag in his wardrobe. He opened a bottle of water and dipped the stick into the liquid and counted. Before he reached ten, the stick turned bright red. Poison. The good feelings he’d had entering his room not long before had disappeared. He set down the contents of his experiment and reached for his com with force.

“Captain, are you awake?”

Phasma’s voice sounded as alert as ever, “Yes, General, what is it?”

“The poison. It wasn’t for Yatley or Ren, it was meant to be you and I.”

There was a pause on the other end, “I know.”

“Why didn’t you say anything before?”

“I intended to, but you started talking about my knife.”

Hux smiled. If he lost Yatley’s killer, it was still worth it. Then he groaned within himself when another concern popped into his head. “Phasma, is there a camera in the cantina?”

“I assume there is, I’m on my way now, to see what I can find out. I would have told you tomorrow after I’d reviewed the footage and had something to report.”

“Excellent. Please do.”

 

Phasma had tried to sleep after the time she had with Hux, but instead it was like she could solve every problem that had been plaguing her. Her first order of business after putting her armor back on had been to discuss the poisonings with Ren, but his quarters were either empty, or he was not to be disturbed. How could he sleep when something like this had happened? His abilities lent him better for things like interrogation. Phasma was excellent at lying, but she lacked the forethought to orchestrate elaborate schemes. She preferred to let Hux be the long game strategist. She could think on her feet, solve problems as she went, shoot first and ask questions later. There were a myriad of reasons anyone might want General Hux dead, and she provided him with protection most of the time, so it stood to reason the same person might want her dead as well. She smiled to herself. They hadn’t succeeded. She never forgot to check anything she ate or drank. She always kept poison tests with her at all times, she even had some she’d cut into pieces the size of a pea to drop in her drinks for places like Cloud City. She never drank alcohol. She’d tried it a few times, but she preferred to keep her head clear.

 

As Jes the Mirialan traitor, and Kylo Ren, moved to leave, there was a tap at the door. “Captain Phasma’s out at the guards requesting entry. She said it’s regaurding a murder of one of their Generals?”

“Tell her I’ll be right out.” Kylo Ren huffed, tucked his chip safely away. “You will follow me, and stay where I can see you, or you will never make it out of this atmosphere again.” Ren threatened.

“If you asked me, I’d put on black and a mask and follow you out of here. Missing a matching saber though.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious.”

“I’m always serious,” Jes smiled.

“It’s your brother I want.”

“You know, he doesn’t have a red saber either.”

Ren moved to choke her snarky female neck with the force, but nothing happened. She was clearly struggling against him, but she was well trained.

“Good, use your anger. Way to move on,” She grinned sarcastically.

Kylo Ren grabbed her neck with two hands and slammed her against the door. Neem’s voice sounded through the door speaker, “Jes? Everything okay?”

“Always is Neem.” The speaker clicked off and Jes glared hard into Ren’s mask. “Your ability to see the way things could be is one of your greatest strengths. I’m sorry I took your saber. Sometimes I’m just a petty thief. Also, I do know your father. Not well, but he’s the one who told me who you really were. Luke Skywalker has no intention of coming anywhere near you. He won’t come back, not unless you can change his mind about where your allegiance lies.”

“Allegiance!” Ren growled. Letting go of the woman’s throat, “Look at me! Anyone can see whose side I’m on!”

Jes looked him up and down, choosing her words carefully, “You’re a Solo. You’re not the least allegiant to The First Order among its leadership, but you are far from the most.”

The helmet was still in front of her. He didn’t deny it. She had an interesting perspective on everything. Maybe he wouldn’t have to kill her after all.

Phasma was surprised to see the bartender tour guide again, and it made her slightly suspicious, but she was focused on her present task.

“I’m here to look at security footage of-“

“Come with me.” Ren cut her off and they walked around a few quiet corners before he spoke. “It’s being wiped as we speak.” He lied.

“I’d like to see it for myself.” Phasma insisted.

“I’ve already taken care of the one responsible for attempting to poison you and Hux.”

“I’d like to see the footage for myself.”

“It’s too late.”

“They won’t get everything.”

“I’ll double check.” Kylo Ren assured her.

“I’d like to check for myself.”

“Phasma. I’ve seen everything.”

She took a long pause. One mask, shiny and taller was taking stock of what the other mask, the dark one, meant exactly.

“One camera. Very well hidden in the Cantina.” The darker mask explained.

“What happens in Cloud City isn’t it?” Phasma sounded exactly as she always did, dutiful and even of tone.

“Sure.” Kylo Ren, had never longed to see her face so desperately as he did in that moment. He could feel her wheels turning. She had settled on something.

“I hate you.” She said flatly.

“I know.” He called after her as she marched back in the direction of their suites.

 

Ren gave Phasma a head start so that he could enter the hallway past the Stormtroopers alone with Jes the Jedi. It was as if she had wanted her plan to fail. She hadn’t been successful at Hux and Phasma, or stealing his saber.

“There are other things that matter more you know,” Jes volunteered.

“Me not killing you seems like it would have been a higher priority.”

They stepped out of the elevator and back into his quarters. He checked the balcony and set his droid to follow Jes’s every movement.

“Until you insisted I bring you that drink, my plan was to kill Hux quietly, then Phasma. I would have been long gone before anyone knew what had happened. I was hoping you’d chase me so I could talk to you alone.”

“I’m done talking to you. Spread your legs apart.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to have your droid search me?” Jes said indignantly.

“Droids miss things.”

Jes kicked off her shoes and stood with her arms out. Kylo Ren started at the top of her hair and moved slowly down her body with his gloved hands, examining every inch of her intently. Nothing above her neck. He pulled a small vial of something from her bra and tossed it onto the bed. Then he pulled the smallest gun he had ever seen from the upper back part of her dress. It was holstered to her bra somehow. He examined the gun, no bigger than her thumb and index finger, and tossed it onto the bed. On her other shoulder a cartridge of what looked like metal cards was hidden. He pulled one out and looked to her for an explanation.

“They’re to throw.”

“Handy.” He commented, tossing them on the bed too.

Nothing around her waist or below until the top of the inside of her thigh. Her lightsaber, of course. Three bombs that looked like half of a modified proton bomb, and a very small knife. Feeling satisfied with his search, he had his droid scan her from every direction. His findings confirmed, he pulled off his gloves and outer robes. He disappeared into the refresher for a few minutes, then took all of Jes’s items and placed them in a careful pile on the table next to the window on his side of the bed. He lay down with his lightsaber under his forearm and gestured to the side of the bed closest to her.

“If you touch me, I might kill you, so don’t.”

Jes reluctantly climbed in under the blanket, but not before she placed two pillows in-between them. “The things you choose to be confused about, boggle my mind.” She said quietly, then she turned over and watched droid set himself on the table near the door. Kylo Ren didn’t know exactly what she meant. He was pleased with himself for being able to tell Phasma what he knew. He hoped she’d have a hard time sleeping. What could that have been like? What could have possessed her to be with Hux? Weex would have probably done whatever she wanted. It was strange not to be alone to sleep. Something about Jes was familiar, but more of her was foreign. He knew she wouldn’t try to kill him. He didn’t know how he knew, but he did.

 

It was a physical impossibility for General Hux to sleep in. He was tired, partly from being up later than usual and his excursion with Captain Phasma, and partly from being awake pondering Yatley’s demise. A good warm breakfast had satiated him much more than usual. It irritated him that he knew so little about the Yatley situation. Phasma would have told him more if she knew more. Ren always got in the way of details. He was allowed to be vague, and that irritated him.

Hux dutifully called his officers together and told them the news. He was glad Xuzt had her husband with her. No one knew the Lietenent was Yatley’s daughter, she had wanted it to remain confidential. Until this trip, Hux didn’t even know her husband was still alive. He seemed like a steady, loyal man. Xuzt didn’t cry. She nodded along with everyone else in the room. Her face gave no indication that she had suffered a loss, but that was why Hux liked her. Xuzt was duty first. She was right. There was no point dwelling on some imagined future. There was only here and now, and tomorrow. Yesterday served the purpose of a lesson, and nothing more. Hux made eye contact with Xuzt. She gave him a quick nod to acknowledge him, and then turned with her husband to leave. They still had a few hours of recreation left that morning. Hopefully it would be enough for her to collect herself, Hux thought.

 

Phasma watched Xuzt and her husband. She wondered what it was like to have only one person to be concerned with for the rest of your life. Phasma trained thousands of soldiers at any given time. She couldn’t imagine only having one person to be responsible for. She could always see room for improvement, she was always thinking of ways to better them. She wondered how many times Xuzt and her husband had had intercourse since they’d arrived in Cloud City. The night before, Phasma had half expected for the stubborn General to still be in her room when she was done in the refresher. He had left just as she had asked. He had left a bottle of water on her side table. She wondered if he’d tried to come in after her, or just left it for her with no other intentions.

It had been years since Phasma had felt a new muscle in her body. She was bruised slightly on the underside of her pelvic bone. She also felt tighter in the region, but tenderized. It was a good sensation. Ruined by the fact that Kylo Ren had seen what had transpired in the cantina. She wouldn’t tell the General that Ren knew unless she had to. As she stood up from breakfast she could feel a few isolated muscle groups were sore too. As she passed back to her room, thinking maybe she might be able to nap, she could hear Hux’s captains talking in Yatley’s room. The door was open, and she only walked down the hallway far enough to listen.

            “I’m so glad you left when you did last night. I don’t care what anyone says, hired girls are the best.” Brust laughed.

            “I needed something after seeing Captain Phasma,” Nii admitted.

            Phasma’s chest burned angrily under her armor.

            “I lost that bet hard.” Torf confessed. The men laughed. “You knew the whole time, and you didn’t say one word you b******!”

            “It was better to watch the looks on your faces.” Hux’s voice chimed in.

            “I think I’m even more afraid of her now. Like, she could break me, and look hot doing it.” Nii shook his head.

            “You’re obsessed, I still can’t believe you gave up your leave!” Brust teased Nii.

            “It would have been worth it if she danced with me. I’d probably still be excited.”

            The men burst out laughing again. “General, how have you not tried to tap that in all these years?”

            Phasma’s heart was pounding in her ears. Hux didn’t hesitate for one second in his answer, “Men, are you kidding? If I ever thought about trying do you think I’d still be here?”

            “Not a chance!” Ferdaldio laughed. “It kind of makes you proud though, I mean, since she’s on all those posters. She could be there without her mask too, and still get people to join up.”

            The men jostled each other in quiet acknowledgement.

“Where did you end up last night?” Brust put to him.

            “Don’t tell my wife. Somewhere I shouldn’t have been. Somewhere very fun.” Ferdaldio bragged.

            “Did you go get yourself another girl Hux? Or were you dealing with Yatley stuff all night?” Nii asked eagerly.

            “Please, I was never going to take any girl on Cloud City to my room last night.”

            “I don’t know, we probably could have found you some dignitary who was worthy of you.” Brust laughed.

“You are such a snob General.” Nii shouted.

“I prefer to think of myself as discerning.” Hux said quietly.

“I expect great things men!” Torf laughed, imitating Hux. They all chuckled heartily.

“There is nothing wrong with having high standards.” Hux’s voice was too close to the door. She ran back down the hall as fast and quietly as she could.

A moment later, Hux’s familiar knock sounded and she opened her bag as if she’d only just finished packing it.

“Come in.” She tried to say calmly.

Hux entered, removing his hat, “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

“As well as could be expected I suppose.” Phasma faced him as she always did, she thought, but there was something there. Something that wasn’t there before. Things had happened between them that they couldn’t take back.

Part of Hux wanted to rip her mask off and demand she take him one last time before they left Cloud City. The other part, the stronger part, pulled his hat behind his back. “I wanted to ask if you were well.” She waited too long to give a response. He wished she’d take off her mask and give him the benefit of reading her silence, but he knew what she was going to say.

“General, I hoped we’d come to the same conclusion. What happens in Cloud City…” She let her words trail off.

“Excellent,” Hux put his hat back on his head. “We are always on the same page Captain.” He gave a firm smile and left her standing exactly as when he’d come in. On the other side of the door he took one step and a deep sigh. It had been great. It had been better than great. His body was slightly damaged from their flirty fighting and superior sexual engagements, but it was over. He smiled to himself as he ventured up to the hangar they were to depart from. It was in the past. Yesterday was a lesson. Yesterday was a memory. Today he had things to do. Today he had reports to give, even better news to receive, but he could still feel the place her hand had gripped him on his bare arm the night before, the strong hand that had become listless with an intimate, “Job well done.” It was enough, he told himself. His steps were lighter just thinking about it. Who said secrets were overrated?

 

Jes leaned over the pillow wall that had ensured she would not get anywhere near her overly dramatic friend. She kissed his cheek lightly. Kylo Ren’s eyes opened.

“Why did you do that?” He asked.

“You’re so human, and so young. I thought you needed it.”

Ren sat up severely. She looked exactly the same as she had when they had gone to sleep. His droid was still on high alert, closer now, because of her movement in his direction. She wasn’t teasing him. He touched the place where she had pressed her lips against his face. He had heard of topical poisons, but he didn’t feel anything, and Mirialans were not venomous.

“Don’t look so serious. It was just a kiss. What’s on the agenda today? I have a shift at ten. Should I call in sick?”

There was a knock at the door. “Come in.” Ren answered. Haz and Weex were dressed in their armor. They stood against the wall facing the bed and said nothing. Jes crossed to them. She stood in front of Haz and turned back to Ren.

“He seems pretty good considering I poisoned him yesterday.” She said, staring into his mask. Haz made no movement. Jes moved to stand in front of Weex. “I know you-“ She grabbed his mask and he drew his saber as quickly as she had. Her hand held his wrist back and Ren barked.

“Don’t!” Then he spoke softer, “Take it off.” And disappeared into his sanitation chamber. Weex removed his helmet and stood stone-face before the shiny Jedi woman.

“Of course!” She exclaimed. “You’re good. Obnoxious, but good.” She stared at both of them. “You do look scarier like that. But you’re so young. You had a bad day yesterday.” Jes reached to touch Weex’s face.

“Ren!” Weex called out.

“She’s fine, block her out!” His master answered from the bathroom. But the youngest Knight struggled against the woman’s experience and concentrated on the ceiling as if it would help.

“Don’t worry.” She finally said. “Broken hearts heal just as well as bones do.” She kissed him on the cheek too, but Weex kept his eyes dutifully forward. Ren emerged, fully dressed, except for his helmet.

“Take her to get her things,” He said, placing his helmet on. Weex did the same.

“Finally! It’s been a pleasure. I’ll send my brother to you as soon as possible.”

“No,” Ren explained, “You’ll need to get all of your things, you’re coming with us.”

“No. I’m not.” Jes said defiantly. “And my brother won’t come anywhere near you, as long as I’m with you.”

“We’ll see.” Kylo Ren said, dismissing them for the final time. Jes eyed her weapons, but his knights stood waiting for her outside the door. She was sure she could take them one at a time, but not all three, while unarmed, in a formal gown, in close proximity. Reluctantly, she followed them out.

 

“I’ll meet you in a few days. In the meantime, see what you can discover about her,” Ren ordered Haz and Weex in a small hangar outside their ship.

“What did she do to you?” Haz asked their unsettled master.

“Deceived me.” Ren growled.

“But she came back?” Weex asked, looking to the ship where Jes was climbing into the cockpit. “Oh Kriff!!” He yelled, running up the ramp.

“See you then.” Haz hurreed up after his younger partner.

Kylo Ren watched them take off. He admired her spirit. If he had the time, he’d question her himself, he might have to eventually if his knights weren’t successful. He pushed that thought from his mind. Despite the drama that had erupted from Yatley’s premature demise, he had enjoyed the strange conversations Jes had instigated. She had taken his lightsaber with no apologies, but seemed unconcerned with her capture, and hardly intimidated by him. If her brother was anything like her, he would be a much-needed addition to Kylo’s forces.


	11. Home Again: Four Months before the completion of Starkiller

11

Home Again: Four Months before the completion of Starkiller

 

As Ren approached the larger landing pad their First Order transport was to depart from, he could see Xuzt saying goodbye to her husband. Ren waited until the man passed. Geg was unsure of which direction was safe to look, trying to avoid staring at the terrifying mask of Kylo Ren directly. Ren approached Xuzt and spoke as gently as he could through the distortion designed for intimidation, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Xuzt looked at him, surprised inside that he would condescend speaking with her about something so personal, again. _How did he know_? He could hear her wonder. _Why does he care?_ The female officer’s face was professional, but grim. “Thank you.” She said blankly. Ren dismissed himself and walked up the ramp. He had made her uncomfortable when she had no reason to be. He should have waited, taken off his mask. What did it matter now? He needed to keep that separation. It was wiser to maintain that separation.

He watched from behind his mask as the pilots took their places. He could tell they had had a good time. General Wun was grumpy as he boarded, no doubt from the loss of Yatley, and reluctance to leave his wife behind. The male Captains all boarded together, their faces were serious, until they were well out of view of onlookers from outside, then they continued quietly congratulating each other on what a good time they’d had. Ferdaldio was preoccupied with something, but he played along with his friends, and tried not to glance in Ren’s direction. This garnered Ren’s attention, but he couldn’t pin down exactly the reason for the man’s behavior before he was interrupted by Commander Gow.

“Yes?” The masked man couldn’t hide his irritation as the Commander blocked his view of Ferdaldio.

“Where’s the Mirialan?”

“What?” Kylo Ren looked up at the Commander, but made no motion to engage him.

“Ren, may I speak to you outside?” Commander Gow was asking, but it sounded like a command. Ren stood and looked down at him as if to make out what Gow might want, but he could sense nothing from him.

“As you wish,” Ren motioned for Gow to lead the way. Phasma and Xuzt and Hux were speaking together and Lando was just reaching the landing to bid them farewell. Gow led Ren away from them and crossed his arms.

“The Mirialan bartender from last night. Where is she?”

“I didn’t realize you’d be missing her.”

“Is this a game to you? Is she still alive?”

Ren folded his arms at the older man. “Do I answer to you?” Snoke’s apprentice challenged.

“I don’t know what you’re planning to do with her, but you need to be careful. Put yourself seven years ahead in your training, and that’s what you’ve just taken on.”

Hux was watching them from across the way. Ren wanted to laugh. What did the Commander know of her? He must know she was a bounty hunter if he was so concerned. He must also know she used the force. Ren looked closer at Gow’s face. Gow was trying to tell him something, without saying anything.

“What are you saying?” Ren finally demanded impatiently.

“Not here. Not now. I’ll send for you. Or, when you lose the girl, I’ll wait for your call.”

Ren chuckled in disbelief. His men could definitely handle a bounty hunter, force sensitive or not. Commander Gow shook his head and walked away without being dismissed. Not that Ren cared, but something was bothering the man, and he couldn’t get the look on Gow’s face out of his head as they finished preparing to depart. He watched Gow carefully, hoping he could discern more, without success.

Gow sat next to Captain Phasma, “I heard you had an especially good time.”

Phasma glanced at Hux, who was already busy talking over some schematics with Xuzt and Wun. “Who told you that?” She asked with as little interest as possible.

“Lando said you went spelunking off the top of the city, and made his guide a little crazy.”

“Yes.” She was relieved, “I would have done it more. Jumping into the clouds. It was beautiful.”

“You probably wouldn’t believe it, but I used to love that kind of thing myself. I’ve enjoyed watching the younger Stormtroopers take to it.”

“No thanks to that fool on Starkiller letting perfectly good terrain go to waste.”

“I heard about that.” Gow smiled. “How have the newest units been from the Absolution?”

“You’ve surpassed Cardinal’s standards. We’ve been impressed. I can finally put less effort into breaking them in.”

“Good to hear,” Gow smiled, “I’d like you to visit again soon, see our progress, make any further suggestions. I imagine we’ll all be much busier in coming months as Starkiller is completed.”

“Indeed. I’ll make it a priority. Thank you, Commander.”

Captain Phasma always liked Commander Gow. Everyone seemed to like him. He had a way of conversing that was authoritative but pleasant. He wasn’t an abrasive man, but he was very firm with his recruits. Phasma wondered what a man like him would have done for fun in Cloud City. How could he stand the younger Captains who were constantly trying too hard to please General Hux? Commander Gow had always worked between ships with the Storm Trooper program. Gow could see who was a born leader, who the champions were. He had no favorites, and he had no interest in being liked. For a time, he had answered to Captain Cardinal, now he was free to run the program with full control, as long as he operated within First Order guidelines. Gow had been in the First Order only a few years longer than she had, but he was nearly sixty. Sometimes, at certain angles, in full sunlight, Phasma could see the faintest grey markings under his right eye. She couldn’t make out their shape, but she assumed they had once been the distinct tattoos of his Mirialan people.

Gow had been an impressive fighter. Phasma had fought him more than a few times in her early days on The Absolution. He was not a large man, but more built than General Hux. He had been very agile. Since Cardinal’s departure, Gow had insisted their soldiers be trained more extensively to defend lightsaber combat. All part of the older generation’s paranoia of Luke Skywalker’s return, Phasma thought.

General Hux preferred to keep Commander Gow close because he didn’t entirely trust him. Hux’s father had recruited him on some remote world from a gutter, claiming he had never seen anyone fight the way Gow had. His father had been correct- that Gow’s skills were impressive. Gow never did what Hux expected, like the smile and wink to the alien man the weeks before. Gow was a serious man, but when he smiled it was as if everyone was forced to trust in him. Not Hux. If Gow was any less talented, or obedient, Hux would have had Phasma eliminate him years ago. Hux pretended not to watch as the Commander conversed easily with Phasma. It was easier that Cardinal had hated Phasma. Hux resented that Commander Gow appeared to like everyone. He had a serious face, and Hux had heard him talk down to Kylo Ren more than once. He hated that Ren tolerated it so well.

Hux sat next to Phasma as Gow scrolled through their upcoming training regimens. Everything Gow did was quietly impressive, and it always seemed to be the right, and needed thing. Watching Phasma’s glove and Gow’s hand touch the screen together made the red-headed man squirm. This was going to be much harder than he thought.

For the most part, Hux was not a jealous man. He had had women that most of the Galaxy would consider to be out of their league. They were limited romances spurred by his position and lasted only months at the longest. Then he moved on to the next conquest. Occasionally he had come back into acquaintance with his female diplomats, royals, and dignitaries, and they were pleased to see him. They would exchange a knowing look, Hux would meet their newest interest or spouse, and that would be the true end. He never longed for more. Phasma was different.

For nearly a decade Hux had worked closely with her on everything from developing training programs to practical weapons tests to her tutoring him in his own combat skills. Every other day, they sat together to go over reports and report to Snoke or Ren, or both. This was set to continue as it always had, and aside from his occasional peaks at her nude medical report, she was her armor to him. He had spoken with her handfuls of times without her mask, usually on foreign planets or amidst a few technical failures, alone. Her face was not much different than her mask. She maintained a constant expression of dutiful precision in her speech. Hux had never been able to picture her smiling, but he always knew what her voice sounded like when she was. He never knew where her eyes were pointed, but he could usually guess. He had never seen her bare hands in person. He couldn’t picture her lips when she spoke. Now he could.

He had never seen her armor as a barrier he wanted to cross, but now it mocked him. He knew the slope of her neck, the feel of her hair in his fingers. He could see her eyes flashing and rolling and closed. He knew her hips were soft and solid. He knew the taste of her bare skin and the softness of her perpetually gloved hands. He knew if he closed his eyes he could still feel her lips and tongue against his. Worse still, he knew exactly what it was like to be inside her. He strained to keep himself from thinking of that one thing, because he still wanted to be.

Hux watched as Phasma slid her hand across the screen back and forth. She had smooth calluses where her favorite weapons rubbed daily. He thought of how tight she’d gripped his shoulders, how hard she’d slapped his skin. If it weren’t for modern medicine, everyone would have wondered what had happened to his face. Now, unless someone was looking very closely, the place where she’d kicked him in the cantina was hardly noticeable. Yatley’s death had kept everyone quite distracted. Hux touched the place on his neck where Phasma’s tiny weapon had started it all, less that twelve hours before. He was pathetic.

“General? Thoughts General?” Gow repeated.

“Hmm?” Hux looked to the man blankly, “If Phasma approves.” Hux spoke mindlessly trying not to look at his own reflection in her armor. Gow scowled.

“Sir, I asked if Phasma might visit us as soon as tomorrow? Are you well?” Gow’s accent was different than Hux’s, less formal, but he still always managed to sound condescending.  
            “Just tired Commander. Yatley and all. We’ve got to catch up with Snoke, but perhaps the following day? Is two days sufficient?”

“Yes. Two full days would be sufficient I think.” Gow conceded, “Thank you.”

“Show me the FNs.” Phasma turned back to the older man.

Hux was angry with himself. He pretended to still be looking on, but instead he tried to remember the distance he always kept from Phasma. Arm’s length. Unless they were looking over something, then only slightly closer, she was tall enough to see just fine without having to be close to him. Was the way he sat in his chair giving anything away? He glanced over his shoulder at Kylo Ren. The masked man seemed to be going over information of his own. He didn’t even look up at Hux peeking at him. What had he been talking to Gow about so seriously on the landing? This was why Hux didn’t trust Gow, because he didn’t like or trust Ren, and if they were having guarded conversations, something was amiss. He couldn’t tell if he was too close to Phasma now, or if this was how he always sat.

Hux wondered how quickly she could take her armor off. He’d never worn armor. He’d tried a few suits on over the years, but he was not practiced at it. Maybe he should be. Hux used to instruct the younger troopers on putting it on and taking it off. He remembered it was easiest to remove the arms first. Phasma was larger in her armor, especially the way she carried her blaster, elbows out, that’s what gave her such a fearful appearance. Hux smiled remembering how quickly he’d unlatched her boot coverings. That shiny metal boot plate against his face had hurt, nothing a little healing gel and cold pack hadn’t fixed. He could still feel the sore place on the front of his gums. It was rather lucky she hadn’t broken his nose.

Had she faked her pleasure? Perhaps that was the way she’d lured Ren’s young knight in. No, she had asked him why it was so good. She could have been teasing him. Then why would she let him try again and again? She could have thrown him out easily at any time. It was her lips he was still thinking about. She hadn’t kissed him at first, he had kissed her. She hadn’t been willing at first and he’d changed her mind. He had to put this out of his mind, he was beginning to sweat. He needed air, and to stand with the front of his pants away from everyone.

Hux moved to the sanitation room behind the cockpit, far from all the passengers. He stood in front of the mirror and took a few deep breaths. He had to shake this off. If he brought what had happened between them up to Phasma, he might find himself on death’s door. That settled his pants down quickly. Dying inside her might be worth it, dying because he mentioned it, definitely not. He was General of The First Order army. He was young and powerful. He’d had Captain Phasma. No, she had had him. She had wanted him. And why not? She couldn’t regret that. He was worth having. It was done. He had too much to do. He’d be transporting thousands of troops and orchestrating hundreds of missions in the next few months. He’d consider Cloud City just one more good mark on his nearly flawless record. He would never see her in a dress again. That was easier. She was her armor, and her armor was deadly. She was still the same chrome figure that ruthlessly trained their soldiers, and nothing had changed.

He could stow Cloud City away as a fun memory. He would have to. Nothing had changed. He had to put her out of his mind, at least in daylight hours, when there was work to be done. That was why he was so successful, he could stay focused when he needed to be. He took a few deep breaths and stood straight in front of the mirror. Yes. The army and Starkiller were his only concerns, and they were nearly flawless. He had designed them to be. Nothing would get in his way.

As Hux exited the sanitation chamber Phasma stood at the end of the corridor. He smiled his regular pursed lipped smile, the one he had when he was on to something new.

“Are you alright?” She asked him as he drew near.

“Never better. These are exciting times. Are you looking forward to the coming months the way I am?”

Phasma’s voice was suspicious, as if she doubted his sincerity, “I believe I am.” Her words were slower than usual, but he ignored the fact, and moved passed her to speak with General Wun.

Over-enthusiastic Hux was her favorite. His pale blue eyes twinkled when he was like that. The night before, after they’d kissed, he’d had the same excitement asking for one last time with her. She still couldn’t believe he’d followed her into her room and offered to take off her dress. If she’d known how good it would feel to kiss his pink lips, she would have kissed him sooner. She would have let him remove her weapons too. She was still trying to make sense of why he’d tried so hard to please her. It had worked. That morning she was about to apply healing cream to her bruised pelvic bone, but had decided against it. She’d let the feeling linger a little longer. When she walked, she could feel the places they’d put the most pressure.

A small part of her had hoped to find him still lingering in her chambers when she emerged from the shower. She would not have engaged him in intercourse again, but she wished she knew if he wanted to. However, he was all duty. He was distracted by Yatley’s death, and probably thinking of everything that needed to be done now that their little break was over. The irritating thing that lingered was that before Cloud City, she’d looked at his lips, and wondered what they felt like. Now, she knew. She watched Hux talking to General Wun, his focus was renewed as he spoke. His lips were confident and concentrated. The fire was back in his eyes and her loins burned a little just thinking about his smiling words from the night before, “Trust me.”

A small worded warning flashed across the face of her mask, “Elevated blood pressure.” What? Her blood pressure was only elevated in the heat of battle. Of course, she never did wear her mask when she mated. She brushed off the feeling of Hux’s body against hers. Much easier to do for a female, or at least easier to conceal. She wasn’t about to let herself be excited by him now that Cloud City was out of sight. It had been enlightening, but it was over. She attempted to focus on something else.

Ren was watching her. She looked in his direction. He motioned for her to come over to him.

“You were right about the Mirialan. She’s a Jedi.” Ren said quietly.

“Did you engage her in combat?” Phasma’s interest was piqued.

“I didn’t need to. She has the information I needed and seems willing to cooperate. She was the one who tried to poison you.”

“And you left her alive?!” Phasma was annoyed.

“She’s a bounty hunter. She had more interest in stealing my saber than collecting the bounty on you and Hux. Does he know?”

“That someone tried to kill us, yes.”

“I suppose it was good you were with him, she might have succeeded if he’d been in his room.”

Phasma said nothing. She was angry that Ren seemed to think he knew what was best for everyone. Why should he get to choose who lives and who dies?

“Almost everyone in this room is immediately replaceable except you and Hux.” Ren continued. Phasma looked around the room. He wasn’t wrong.

“I’d keep Xuzt and Gow.” Phasma volunteered. “Snoke could get another you, too, apparently.”

Ren huffed a smile beneath his mask, “All the time with my youngest apprentice and you still believe that? If I wanted to, I could crush your heart in your chest without even touching you.”

“Is that really possible?” Phasma asked a little too eagerly.

“Think about that next time you’re with Snoke. I’m not as powerful as he is yet.”

“But you hope to be?” Phasma was intrigued.

“That’s the only reason I’m here.”

Something stirred inside her. She had not had much respect for Ren when she’d first met him. She hadn’t had much association with him until recently. She knew he was young, and volatile. She knew he only commanded handfuls of masked men at a time. She knew he would do anything for Snoke. Now she wondered why he’d bothered telling her why he was with the First Order, but she knew his honesty had achieved its purpose. For the first time in their acquaintance, she was afraid of him.

Phasma was not bloodthirsty. She preferred to make quick ends of her enemies. Once she had witnessed a warrior who ripped the hearts out of the chests of his defeated. She liked to keep her hands clean of blood, that’s what weapons were for. Kylo Ren could do the same, without even touching someone. She thought about how Weex had pinned her to the wall. Her head had throbbed, and she had applied a cold pack to the places he’d landed his force driven blows. Phasma had read that Lord Vader would choke anyone who disobeyed him, sometimes, from lightyears away. These stories sounded like fairytales, but her blood chilled a little remembering how easily Weex had stayed her hand on the Cloud City transport.

“You have my allegiance, if that’s what you’re asking.” Phasma assured him.

“Good. I know you hate me sometimes, but for now, I’ll keep you alive.”

“Thank you.” Phasma waited for him to nod that she could leave.

Phasma did feel sorry for Kylo Ren and his knights. When you had such special abilities, you were isolated. She was too. She knew Hux had probably never once thought of her as someone he could be with. Hux wasn’t afraid of her because she was on his side, but she knew he knew that wasn’t permanent. Life or death, she’d choose life, no matter the cost. She would always save him, but she wouldn’t give up her own life to save him. There was no reward in that. It was foolish of her to do what they had done the night before. Kylo Ren knew, that was worse.

She tried to remember if she’d ever been fully undressed in front of any man before, she’d been close. Hux said he’d seen her medical file. He had read her massage details enough that he knew exactly how to move his hands across her body. How many other female soldiers had he taken advantage of? No, she had taken advantage of him. Or had she? No man would ever consider being with a woman, a loss, no matter how ugly she might be. How many pictures of other female soldiers had he looked at? She’d have no trouble killing Hux if she ever had to. He was so typical of a man. He was arrogant. “Trust me,” he’d said to her because he knew exactly what he was doing, and she’d let him, three times.

Phasma hated herself. She’d made mistakes, but this was the biggest one she’d ever made. If Hux had been half the man she thought he was, he would never have followed her into her room. He would have just lay still in the cantina and let everything be one-sided. It wasn’t good enough for him, and he’d taken what he wanted. The “ELEVATED BLOOD PRESSURE” warning flashed in her mask again. She hated Kylo Ren for knowing. She hated Hux for letting anything happen between them. She hated herself most of all because she enjoyed it, more than she had ever enjoyed anything. She was pathetic. She had lost. Hux had won, she had let him win.

“Phasma, are you sure you want to send your greenest soldiers to Starkiller first?” General Wun asked from a few feet away.

“No, I think it would be wise to rotate everyone through, but keep a minimum number of troopers at all times. If we send the newest, with the best, they could both benefit in a way they haven’t been able to before.”

“Brilliant.” Wun shook his head at Hux, “What would we do without her?”

“Lose more often.” Hux had a proud smirk on his face that he directed at her. “There is no one like Captain Phasma.”

Hux was mocking her. He made her sick. She was such a fool. Maybe she’d have to kill him sooner than she thought.

“Calm down.” Kylo Ren had taken his mask off, and was standing behind her, whispering to her at the base of her neck next to her mask. “If I can hear you, Snoke definitely will. Now keep your thoughts to yourself, you’re giving me a headache.”

Phasma held her breathe as if that would help. Ren was right. She was projecting everything loudly when she needed to bury it deep. She couldn’t afford to be distracted, not in daylight hours anyway. She thought Gow was watching her, but he seemed to be looking past her to the window. This was ridiculous. She was a champion at control. She could keep herself in check better than anyone. Who was Kylo Ren to give her advice on that subject? Phasma was determined to get everything she needed to do that day done, before they re-boarded The Finalizer.

As Hux stood over her and looked over the plans that she and Xuzt had drawn up, she could smell his hair. So, what? She would enjoy it. His arm looked even smaller in his perfectly tailored, black uniform. His hands were only as big as hers, maybe smaller in mass, even though his fingers were long and lanky like the rest of him. She could throw him around so easily. He had surprised her, maybe that was the most annoying fact. He looked at her the same way he always did. What happened between them was just a bit of fun. She didn’t need him, she hadn’t even wanted him, and he wasn’t about to keep her from doing her job.


	12. Triumphant Return: Four months before the completion of Starkiller

12

Triumphant Return: Four months before the completion of Starkiller

 

            Phasma’s troops were flawless. She had been a little concerned with how at ease they had been, but stepping off the transport there was not one shred of evidence that they had all sported smiles the previous days, not with their masks on. They were in perfect formation. They sounded refreshed, they looked renewed. Ren’s idea had been very good. Hux dismissed them to their transports and she watched proudly as they ascended in perfect lines.

“Does that make you as pleased as it makes me?” Hux asked standing by her side.

“More so, I trained them.” She mused.

“Yes, you have. They’re brilliant. Thank you for making me look so good.”

“Someone has to.”

Hux had a warm feeling in his chest that wasn’t there before. He and Phasma had always been a kind of friends, cordial co-workers. Nothing had changed. He was relieved. It didn’t matter that they had shared an adventure on Cloud City. Everything was still the same.

 

The best news in returning home, was that Starkiller was a month ahead of schedule. Couple that with the superb performance of their troops, and Hux was practically skipping down the halls of his ship.

“I’ve often wondered if your being in your father’s place was the right decision. I am most delighted on days like today that you are.”

“Thank you, Supreme Leader.” Hux said proudly.

“I’d like for you to review the reports from the pathetic Senate, and see if anything concerns you. Then decide if Ren, or his Knights can be of assistance in that regard. I’m aware of some activity, of a Resistance group, that has been making small ripples in some areas of the Galaxy. I don’t like ripples, they turn into waves General. I trust you and Ren to take care of it. We’ll have the funeral for Yatley on the Finalizer, at the end of this week.”

“Yes, Supreme Leader,” Hux and Ren answered in unison.

“You are dismissed General.”

The two force users waited for Hux to be behind the closed doors of the elevator.

“And Skywalker?” Snoke continued to Ren.

“We believe we’re getting closer.”

“I’m growing a little impatient. Especially after I hear your men lost the one person who had contact with someone who had actually seen him in the last few years.” Snoke growled.

“They- what?”

“Oh, so you haven’t heard? The Mirialan woman they acquired on Cloud City has escaped.”

“No. We just returned.”

“No doubt they’re hiding from you with their tails between their legs.”

“I’m sure they’ll recover her, I don’t think she wants to be lost.”

“What makes you think that?”

“She practically volunteered to join me.”

Snoke put his hand to his cheek. “Let her go. If she returns, so be it. I want all our attention on finding Skywalker. He is the real threat.”

“But won’t we need all the help we can get if-“

“Her father, is the one who did this to me!” Snoke said angrily, indicating the crevice on the top of his head. “I doubt she has any intention of not attempting the same thing on you.”

“Yes, Supreme Leader.”

“Gow has done exceptional since Cardinal’s departure. I want you to go with Phasma to look over his program tomorrow.”

“Yes. Supreme Leader.”

 

Kylo Ren stormed to his chambers. He had a message, and he was ready to rip Haz and Weex to shreds for whatever excuses they were about to give. His droid played the projection.

“Sorry. I don’t really like to be contained,” Jes shrugged at him, “But I’ll be in the Republic Capital in three days if you’re interested in talking again. Also, I have something you might be interested in purchasing.”

Ren was livid. Gow had been right. Snoke knew he’d failed at his side-mission. How did Gow know? Gow was Mirialan, was he connected to the woman somehow? He’d deal with Gow tomorrow.

After evening rations, Ren sat on the floor of his chambers.

Han Solo was the reason Ren was not farther along in his training. His father had encouraged him to keep his power a secret from his mother. Luke had suspected, but never spoke to Ren about it. When everyone finally knew, Han Solo was reluctant to send Ben away. Ben had thought it was because his father loved him, but he came to believe it was out of fear of his power.

The day Han left Ben with Luke, Ben sensed his father’s fear, and he himself was afraid. Ben trusted his uncle, but he had never known his father to be afraid of anything. As his father’s ship rose into the atmosphere and disappeared, Ben’s stomach dropped. He had the sensation he would never see his father again alive. Ben ran after the dot in the sky, “Noooooooo!!!”

Something happened to Ren, that had never happened before. Instead of Luke, putting his hand on his shoulder, something was holding his wrist. It was kind of an ugly pale monster and Ren stood up. It was a vision. Jes was right. There was more. Ren revisited the memory again, he let his fear settle down and he could sense hers. The girl from the mountain. It was a desert planet. Maybe it was Tatooine, that would make sense, it was where his grandfather was born, and his uncle was raised. Was it possible that the girl from his visions was sensing him too? Kylo Ren tried to calm himself. Only his father’s face was there, looking at him. “Stay with the ship. Call me if anything happens.”

“I want to come with you!”

“Ben, we shouldn’t even be here, now stay.”

Ben was always left behind. So was the girl. He could see nothing else, but he thought he could hear her crying, or it was just in his own mind.

Ren was motionless. He reviewed the vision again, willed it to come, but nothing new surfaced. The only thing that did come forth was a kind of comfort at the thought of ringing the neck of the Mirialan Jedi girl for making him look like a fool in front of Snoke. He felt the anger swell inward and upward, and he let it. He’d meet her again, and he doubted she was strong enough to resist his power when he collapsed her smiling little neck.

 

It had been a long day of catching up, but their trip was worth it. The best news was that Ren was leaving too. Hux smiled as he lay in his bed. He had missed the Finalizer. He had spent more nights on this ship than any other place in the Galaxy. As Hux lay very still, his hands resting on the bed, he could feel Phasma’s hand on his arm. He didn’t push the thought away. He let himself remember her hands across his chest and the way she clung to his body when he’d kissed her. That kiss. All their kisses. He had never felt like that before, but he’d also never kissed anyone after they’d done everything else. He still wasn’t sure why he wanted to so badly, but he did not regret it.

Now he was having second thoughts. It would have been one thing to mindlessly consummate like rabbits and then leave it at that. He had kissed her. Not just once. He had really kissed her, and it was incredible, and now he was laying there thinking about her. Had he ever lay in bed thinking about Phasma? She had mimicked his every move, it had been amazing. They had chemistry. More chemistry than he had imagined two people could have. He’d been with exactly two dozen women now. All he could think about was Phasma. He’d been with a princess for stars’ sake, only weeks earlier, and he hadn’t longed for her like this.

Hux tried to lay on his stomach, but that made it worse. He willed himself to sleep. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been awake, but it had been long enough that he was beginning to be concerned that he would have adequate rest for the day. What if she was awake too? What if she was thinking about him? That thought excited him even more. What if one night she decided what happened on Cloud City didn’t need to stay on Cloud City?

Hux pulled up his medical records. She didn’t have access to them, but he could give her access. He could alert her to it. Too obvious. He would just make them accessible to her, but not before he set an alert for himself when she accessed them. She didn’t have that kind of control. He could give her that kind of control on her file. What was fair? It wasn’t fair that he’d looked at her picture a handful of times without her knowledge. She must think he was pathetic. He could always change the settings back later. At least this way, he wouldn’t be as tempted.

Eventually Hux knew the feeling of her skin and his longing to run his lips over her body would go away, but not that night. He let himself fantasize that she’d look to see if she could have another glimpse at his file, and be delighted to find that she could. Then maybe she’d be as tortured as he was.

 

Phasma couldn’t sleep without vivid dreams of Hux inside her. Each time she woke up, she was irritated, and vowed it wouldn’t happen again. The fifth time, she gave up. It would be great for her to be away from him for a couple of days until the feeling went away. It was too fresh. Phasma dressed and headed to one of the training areas. She ran the obstacles a few times, then threw her javelin until her arms were numb. Better her arms than between her legs. Every time Hux spoke she wanted to kiss him, she couldn’t wait to get away from him.

 

Hux, Phasma, and Ren met for breakfast in Hux’s quarters to review weekly plans. Hux looked tired. Ren was fidgety under his mask. Phasma appeared as she always did on the outside, but she was fatigued beneath.

“You look tired.” Ren said to Hux at the end of their planning session.

“I didn’t sleep as well as I would have hoped. Too much on my mind.”

“You were up early.” Ren said to Phasma.

“I hadn’t had any proper exercise in a few days. I was ready for the day.”

Beneath his mask he was suspicious, but Ren was too concerned with his own affairs to probe them further. He assumed Phasma was too smart to reconnect with Hux, but people had a way of surprising him with foolishness constantly.

“I’ll be on the ship.” Ren said abruptly, his droid following him out the door.

“I look forward to your report.” Hux said to Phasma.

He wanted to say that he had been thinking about her all night. He wanted to tell her he would miss her, but he wouldn’t have said that before Cloud City, and he resented thinking it now. Phasma looked at him the way she always did. Hux thought about the way she had used Ren’s knight without a second thought. She’d used him too. He wasn’t sure exactly how, but he felt she’d won, and he’d lost. She could hide behind her armor. He might never see her face again.

Phasma felt guilty not saying anything. She stood there, staring down at the shorter man, thinking she’d admit that she could feel his hands all over her. No. She would rather die.

“Goodbye.” Was all she said, the same way she always did.

 

Commander Gow greeted their visitors and they got right to work. It was quite a task to move their training facilities, but their army was swelling and they needed the space the Supremacy would provide. Ren was impressed with how the troopers had learned to defend themselves against the weapons of force-wielders. They would never be able to beat any of them one on one, but together, they would be a formidable defense.

Everything was as it should be. Phasma participated in several demonstrations and her future soldiers were thrilled to have her in their midst. She was the celebrity, the untouchable, shining model for every First Order Stormtrooper. She liked that. Only a handful of her special troopers could beat her in combat. She demanded the best of the children. She and Hux had built upon the foundation of Hux’s father’s programming. Brendol Hux had taught his troops to live for the First Order and die together for one cause. Armitage Hux and Phasma had taken it a  step further, they had made it personal. Every child in the First Order was taught that they were rescued by The First Order, and that they owed their lives and their talents to The First Order. Every child grew up being told that they were special, and that they had something to offer, and that they should offer their best, every day of their lives.

Children were so eager to please. Phasma couldn’t remember ever feeling anything but the need to survive as a child. She had to be the best, had to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves, because that’s all she knew. Now, every day, these children who had been found, or taken from poverty, rescued, they could thrive. They were strong and healthy, and disease free. Most of them didn’t remember where they had come from, those that did agreed that their life was better here. All they had to do was learn and fight, and every night they had a safe warm place to sleep, and they had meals three times a day.

Phasma had seen the opportunity in the First Order, to be part of something strong, to set an example. She never liked the way Brendol Hux was not a leader by example. He was fat and thought himself above physical prowess. That was no excuse. A true leader, led by example. When she first met his son, Armitage, he was a thin young thing. They were near the same age, but he lacked the strength and skills she possessed. What Hux lacked in hand to hand abilities and muscle, he made up for with his mind. Phasma recognized that. Where his father put too much stock in his own position for the sake of his title, the younger Hux had proved himself from the time he was a child. He was a strategist, and he understood the human psyche. He knew what to say to make people loyal, he knew what to say to inspire. He knew how to command fear with mere sentences, spoken calmly. His body had betrayed him by not growing into an ideal specimen, so he had used his mind to create technology that could make anyone invincible. Phasma admired that.

Hux was an excellent marksman. Not naturally, he had practiced that more than anything. While she was up late catching up on the history of the Galaxy in her first few months in outer space, she had seen him up late practicing every night. It was his only skill then. That was how they had become acquainted. At first, they didn’t trust each other. Brendol saw in Phasma what he wanted in every one of his soldiers, and Armitage was jealous of her.

Phasma remembered the night Hux had first spoken to her, she was reading about the Clone Wars in detail, specifically the training program the young Clones had undergone. It was her fourth month there, and the younger Hux had basically ignored her. Brendol had checked up on her every few days, and often invited her to his quarters to see how she was coming along. She had begun in the seven-year-old ranks, and learned to read. Then she had been placed with the oldest trainees on the ship, and they were still a few years younger than she was, but she didn’t mind. Brendol had her training everyone. He was taking notes of everything she did, everything she said. He liked the way she was direct and precise. He irritated her, but he seemed to appreciate every aspect of her abilities. Then came that night.

It had been a typical day, and Brendol had called her to his quarters, he was arguing with Armitage over their hand to hand combat training.

“Listen, boy! If I say you need to implement something new, you implement something new. Don’t throw your special little relationship with Sloane in my face. Ah, here she is.”

“Sir. You summoned me,” Phasma tried not to look at the young thin redhead through her helmet.

“Take that off!” Armitage had ordered her.

“She doesn’t answer to you!” Brendol barked. “You can’t disagree that the things she’s taught them in the few short months she’s been here hasn’t made a marked difference?”

“Father, the likelihood of engaging in such close combat is disproportional to the amount of time you’re asking to devote to the training. There’s a reason you only touched on it in the Academy, it isn’t necessary.”

“I disagree. It’s an attitude. Phasma has proved that,” Brendol smiled at her proudly. His son looked at her with dead eyes. That had bothered her.

“Oh, yes.” The young Hux said with a smirk, “I believe her little niece possesses that same attitude, the most unruly and disorderly recruit we have. That’s exactly what we need.”

“She’s young. She lost everything only months ago. She’ll adjust. I’ll speak with her.”

“You’ll speak with her? Because you are so good with children?” Armitage had said sarcastically. Brendol had enjoyed watching his son and his favorite recruit stare each other down.

“So, prove her wrong. Fight her.” Brendol had sneered.

“What?” Both of them had answered together.

“Armitage, if you’re right, you should be able to hold your own against her. You were trained in your own program after all.”

“She’s in full armor!” His son protested.

“It wouldn’t be fair,” Phasma had suggested, receiving a severe glare from the young man.

“Fine. You, set your blaster to stun. You, take off your helmet, and try not to hurt him too badly. There isn’t much to him after all.” Brendol chuckled.

Phasma never gloried in humiliating people. She had resented Brendol then, not for the first time. She didn’t like the games he played. She didn’t like the way he treated Armitage, but she had dutifully removed her helmet, and removed her gloves and belt. Brendol had snorted in amusement, standing back against the door.

Armitage had set his blaster and reluctantly taken a ready stance, looking up at her with a determined fire that she was surprised by. He wasn’t scared, he was annoyed. They circled each other, the slender man fingering his blaster.

“Come on!” Brendol shouted. His son reached, but Phasma was already swiping his feet out from under him. The blaster bounced away and Phasma punched him hard, but not too hard. To her surprise, he grabbed her chest piece and yanked hard enough to send her face to the floor. He was tougher than he looked. She remembered feeling bad then, for the two fists she laid into his side before knocking him her hardest to his face with her left hand. His head had stayed on the ground that time. His breath a choppy wince. She’d rolled him over and pinned his hands behind his back the way they were taught, prepared for capture, or a quick blaster bolt to the head.

Brendol had laughed heartily, “See! All your technology can’t save you if you can’t even use it! Well done Phasma. I think we need to send you to show the rest of the army how it’s done! What do you say Armitage?”

Phasma had released him and stood at attention. Her poor opponent dragged himself off the floor and stood tall. He didn’t bother to pick up his weapon. He stood staring at a place above his father’s head.

“Are we done here?” The humiliated man asked indifferently.

“Say you agree.” Brendol ordered.

“As you wish, Sir.” Armitage said, the lump on his cheek already beginning to rise.

“Good. Dismissed!”

The younger man had practically dashed from the room, and Phasma was irritated that Brendol had used her like a rabid dog to get to him.

“Why did you do that?” She asked the old man.

“He’s fine. Thinks he knows better than me about everything. Hates an idea just because I think of it. I’m not wrong. You’re exactly what we needed. I have a feeling you’re going to be something exceptional, if you want to be.”

“Would I get my own quarters?” Phasma had asked.

“You want your own quarters? Yes. Of course. Let’s promote you to Lieutenant right now! You deserve it. How does that sound?”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I’ll put it in the computer tonight. Tonight, will be your last night as a recruit, that will really get him!” The man had laughed heartily at the thought of making his son even more upset. Phasma didn’t like that, but the prospect of being able to join the adults, to show them what she could do, gave her an excited feeling. Brendol had already given her access to the library anytime she wanted. Every night after evening rations, she went to the learning center and read. She was catching up on a lifetime of technology and history. Every night she watched as Armitage Hux passed by the archive door and down the hall to the shooting range. She knew he knew she was there, but he had never once said anything to her. That night was no different.

She felt guilty that his father was such a bad leader. Her own brother was the leader of her people. He was a kind person, and he always made decisions he thought were best for everyone. Blood meant something to him. He had never gone out of his way to put anyone down. She was their mightiest warrior, their protector, they had disagreed, to the death, but her brother had never abused his power. Brendol had abused his, and his sons pride. That wasn’t fair. Her first taste of freedom and privilege was around the corner, in the morning she would be taking that first step to all the things Brendol Hux had promised her before she left her home planet. She reluctantly left the data pad she was reading on and entered the shooting range.

Armitage Hux was shooting fast and accurately at every target. She could have easily knocked him off balance, the way he stood. She kept a distance from him, and he didn’t even seem to notice her.

“What do you want?” He said, continuing to hit every target as it came at him.

“I apologize for fighting you earlier. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Following orders. You didn’t have a choice.” He said matter-of-factly. The simulation timed out and he turned to her. “Don’t apologize for doing your duty. I don’t believe you. What you meant to say, was you feel sorry for me that I have such a terrible father.” He looked her up and down. He wasn’t wrong. “He’s right. I know he is. I just wish he hadn’t been the one to say it first.”

“You’re good with them.” Phasma complimented him through her helmet.

“Your niece is the fiercest of them all. I assume you taught her that.”

“Our old life taught us that.” She said flatly.

Hux gave her a sideways glance before starting another set of targets. “Well, that will serve you well here, if you can follow the rules, but you’ve already proven that. You’re smart too, that helps. I’m sure my father will make you into something special in no time at all.”

“What about you? Why are you still here?” Phasma wondered.

Hux turned to her slowly, a twisted smile on his face as the targets continued to fly around behind him, “Rest assured. I’m more special than anyone. Every child who comes through this facility knows it, and every officer knows what I’ve endured and what I’ve done to get here.” He turned back to finish off the rest of the blinking targets. “Do your best. Be patient. Let them know you don’t answer to anyone. You’ll be rewarded.” Phasma was still distracted by his feet. She was tempted to knock him off balance, make him miss something. Instead she reached for his gun, which he tried to block, and twisted backward, making pointless jabs at her arms and hands to get her to let go.

“What are you doing?” Hux growled.

“Patience is overrated.” Phasma said, shoving him in the face and pulling the weapon from his surprised grip. She held the weapon out to him. He took it back hesitantly. “Stand to shoot.” He obeyed and she sighed through her helmet.

“What?” He was incredulous.

“Pull one foot back. You will never be standing like that to shoot anything. Pretend like you are about to run, or duck backwards and hide. You’ve never had to, that’s the only reason you can’t fight. You endured the training, you never conquered it.”

“I’m not built for it. I have other talents.”

“No, but you’re tough. My niece is built the same as you, and you see the way she is. You play games and make up rules. You see everything from too far back. When someone tries to take something from you, hit them in the face. Shoot again.”

He moved to shoot and she knocked him a little at the hip with her foot. He was steadier now. “Good,” She moved to take his weapon and he slammed a hand hard up against her chin, knocking her helmet above her mouth. She smiled, pleased at his instant progress and pulled her helmet off. “Good.”

“You love this, don’t you? The fight?” He sported a quirky grin, “Who are you?”

“Lieutenant Phasma.” She had said, holding her head high.

 

            The library looked the same as it always had. Every future soldier studied the art of war, and the failures and successes of those who had come before. They were taught to be proud of what they had risen against, and above. Phasma was proud to be a part of it still. She was made for this. She watched from a distance as Kylo Ren circled the library. He lingered behind the students slowly. They each in turn tried not to look nervous. She thought about what it must have been like for him as a child. He was educated by the New Republic. Were their books the same? No one was objective in storytelling. She guessed he must have been taught exactly opposite what the children were taught here. He joined her near the door. She stood a full four inches taller than him, but he still seemed to look down at everyone.

            “Impressive,” He said quietly, as not to disturb their work.

            “Do you find it to by biased?”

            “Every story has two sides. The beetle will fight mightily against the bird, so that it won’t be devoured. The beetle is strong, capable in its own right, but it lives in the dirt. It will never be as large, or fly as high as the bird. If not a bird, then another predator would surely come along, one that might not be so swift in its devouring.”

            “Are you saying the beetle should just give up? Not fight?”

            “It can never win. Best to let it be as painless as possible.”

            “But you can’t reason with the beetle.”

            “No,” he sighed, “you certainly cannot.”

 

            Phasma thought about Frey, her little niece. The only piece of home she had brought with her. She had been a disappointment. She had been a star soldier, but the year before Frey had come to Phasma and expressed her feelings too freely. Frey had admitted to Phasma that she wanted to leave the First Order, to switch sides. It was upsetting. Not that it mattered which side of this strange political power struggle anyone was one, but that Frey would choose the weaker side, like her father before her, like Phasma’s brother had. They had fought to the death. Phasma still wondered why he had been so foolish. She had always considered him the intelligent one, the calculating one, the planner. He had lost his head. His passions had overruled him. That was something she never had to worry about with Hux.

            Phasma had told Frey she needed to keep her thoughts to herself, and that she was a fool, who was going to get herself killed. It wasn’t long until one of the young men in Frey’s unit came to Phasma, and confessed that he knew of Frey’s feelings. He didn’t know that Frey meant anything to her. Frey was only NB-2004 to him. That was it. Frey couldn’t just be left alive. Phasma had told him to do what he thought would be the smartest thing. The young man had hesitated.

            “That’s why I came to you. I don’t want her to be terminated, or to die a deserter.”

            “Those are her only options. Unless you can change her mind. We are only as strong as our weakest link.”

            Then the training accident happened. Phasma and Frey’s friend never spoke about it again. Frey’s death was mourned, and that was the end of all that was left of her home world, Phasma had thought. Until she realized Siv was still alive, and that she had a child. None of Phasma’s sources had found anything on Cardinal, the spy, or Siv. She tried to keep that out of her mind, since there was nothing she could do at the moment, but she hoped someone would find something soon. Unanswered questions. How she loathed them.


	13. Absolution: Four Months before the Completion of Starkiller

13

Absolution: Four Months before the Completion of Starkiller

 

Commander Gow came to take them to midday rations. Phasma had grown accustomed to eating a little better than the vitamin packs and protein packets that were given to the children. On missions, she never thought much about it. Here, she found herself disappointed. The First Order was no proponent of fine foods. They had many mouths to feed, civilians and soldiers. The officers ate the best of anyone. Even their meals on ship were not fancy, but they were at least a few steps above this tasteless meal. It was easy to finish quickly. Cloud City’s meals had been delicious. General Yatley’s funeral was sure to promise a feast. Snoke didn’t mind spoiling himself and those closest to him.

 

Phasma enjoyed watching Kylo Ren fight the older children. Some of them were almost the size of men, some of them were still growing. Their voices were high and crackling as they yelled. She couldn’t help but smile as they asked their questions feigning toughness, some of them really were tough. A few recruits stood out. She looked over their profiles, they had already been marked as candidates for officers by General Hux or Commander Gow. Their system was sterling.

“Sir. Couldn’t we just shoot a force wielder from far away? Why do we have to go hand to hand?” A boy in the sixteen-class asked.

Kylo Ren didn’t patronize them. He was much more patient than Phasma expected him to be. “Because I can see your blasts coming. One of the first things I learned, is to defend myself against attacks from afar. At the point when a force user engages you, your goal needs to be to survive. The only way you will defeat an opponent trained in the force, is with your numbers and working together.”

Their faces were intent on his every word. Phasma helped him demonstrate the best way to block attacks, and disabling their enemy. They went slow. When they were finished, they had all done very well. Their young soldiers no longer had the fear in their eyes when they had begun. They were called off to receive a special snack, fresh fruit, probably the most mouthwatering thing they’d had all week. It was a good lesson to learn, to be prudent and tempered, in their appetites and in their pride.

A Lieutenant in her mid-twenties, with dark skin and even darker eyes, invited Phasma to follow her. There were some recruits who couldn’t make it in the Stormtrooper program. By the time the children were twelve, these girls and boys stood out. There were never many of them, but they had to be evaluated extensively. The worst-case scenario, was a memory wipe and abandonment, but that wasn’t common. In fact, that was practically unheard of now. Hux and Phasma had chosen to repurpose, rather than lose a First Order recruit. Snoke agreed.

Some recruits just didn’t have fight in them, they became technicians and engineers, and architects and programmers. They were easy to find at a very young age. They were good at puzzles, they excelled in their studies. They used their free time to study and innovate, instead of in physical activities.

Some recruits were easy to fit, they begged to be placed in the nurturing program for the youngest members of the First Order, to teach and to assist the droids. Some tried to be cooks. Some had a knack for programming, or studying weather patterns. Some were meant to design clothes or furniture. Some went into food science or safety protocol. Some became medical technicians and health officers. Not every child in the First Order stayed a Stormtrooper.

Phasma watched from behind glass as the Lieutenant called “B” brought each failing child into the cozy room. The room was like a dwelling common area. It had warm light and comfortable furniture. Something about it, was just a little more human than any other First Order area. Each child’s profile came up on B’s data pad, and on the screen behind the glass, where Phasma sat. A boy of twelve was the slowest runner any of them had ever seen. He kept his face straight as B asked him questions about where he thought he’d want to be. He used all his free time to run flight simulators, and he was good. B promised that if he could prove himself as a pilot, he might just get to stay. He was thrilled, and ran faster from the room then she said he’d ever been able to run in his life.

There was a young girl who cried upon being seated before B. She was seven. She apologized over and over. B told her she needed to pull herself together, to which the little girl responded, quietly, “I don’t want to die.” B explained that she wouldn’t die, if she kept trying. If she could control her emotions, they would figure out what she was good at.

Everyone needed something to be good at. Everyone needed purpose. Phasma smiled, trying to imagine what a scrawny little Hux might have been like at that age on Arkanis. He must have had a miserable time. Phasma had always been strong, she felt sorry for those who were weaker than herself, but they had purpose. Hux must have lived the first few years of his life feeling hopeless. She smiled to herself thinking of his confident words to her a decade ago, “I’m more special than anyone.” You needed that kind of confidence to lead.

 

Commander Gow allowed Kylo Ren to enter his chambers ahead of him.

“Well, you were right,” Ren seethed through his mask.

“She already left you, did she?”

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner? How do you know her?”

“Her father and I were once friends. Then I left his side to join all this.” He gestured up with his hands to the plain room.

“Who are you?” Kylo Ren held out his saber in front of Gow’s face.

Gow smiled, then he nudged the man with both hands to the air in front him. Ren slashed at him once, but the man’s deep green saber cracked to meet Ren’s blow.

“You’re a Jedi!” He yelled.

“Louder. I don’t think Snoke heard you. I have no wish to fight you. My only interest has been to keep an eye on you. My loyalty was once to your father.”

“So, you’re a traitor.”

“Your father saved my life. My debt is to keep you alive. He doesn’t know I’m still alive.”

“What is it with debts and Han Solo? I don’t need your help, you old fool.”

“Things are escalating across the Galaxy. I thought it was time you knew you had my allegiance.”

“And you’re training the young army to fight against me?”

“To survive against those who are being awakened. Most of them carry red sabers, and I don’t think it’s fair for these kids to be slaughtered.”

“I can’t disagree. They have no choice. If the New Republic were smart, they’d surrender now and allow us to educate them.”

“You know they never will.” Gow tucked his blade back under the tails of his uniform. “The Galaxy will never submit. You know as well as I do that General Organa would rather die at your bare hands then give up the only cause she’s ever known.”

Ren was quiet. Gow was right.

“If you leave now you might be able to convince them.” Gow said.

“You’re delusional. Even without me and my knights, even without Snoke, The First Order can’t be taken down from the outside.”

“You really are on our side.”

“I’m on the strongest side. The war has already begun. There have been battles. There will be more, but when people look back on this time in the Galaxy, they’ll be reading about massacres, not a fight.”

It was Gow’s turn to be sober. He understood why the young man had stayed. He had no desire to be on the losing side, and he could see how hard anyone who thought they could face the First Order was going to lose.

“I know Snoke is looking for Luke.” Gow said.

“Luke is a coward.”

“Luke Skywalker is many things, but he is no coward. If he’s hiding, he has a good reason, he has a plan.”

“You’re a capable man Gow, but your drivel bores me. What’s to keep me from killing you right now? Or from telling Snoke of your power?”

“Because you’re not stupid. I could bring her to you.”

Ren huffed through his mask, “You want me to send you on a mission? She said her brother would find me, he’s the one I want.”

“He’s dead.”

“What? Did you kill him?”

“No. He died three years ago, hunting down Luke. His ship had a bad run-in with pirates and he was set adrift. When they finally found his ship, life support had been un-operational for a week.”

“Then why keep up the ruse?” Ren asked fiercely.

“Makes Jes a little more interesting, doesn’t it?”

“How many more of you are hiding out in the First Order?”

“I wouldn’t know. Not many if they’re smart.”

“Maybe you aren’t as smart as you think either.” Ren shot at him.

“Definitely not. But green isn’t the only saber I carry, and for a long time, I thought I’d never carry it again.”

“You’ve been here much longer than I have, how can you say you were watching me?”

“Let’s just say, I joined to finish the job on Snoke that Jes’s father started, but I stayed because I knew you might be the only person who could ever do it.”

“Watch it old man!” Kylo Ren breathed at him.

“I said ‘could’. Aren’t you curious?”

“We’re done here.” Kylo Ren moved for the door.

“I know you want to know what I’m talking about. Just let me know whenever you’re ready.”

 

What a ridiculous idiot Gow was. Ren stormed to his room and ripped the mask from his head. Gow had been marching around the First Order for more than two decades, just waiting for his chance to kill Snoke? Snoke had rescued him from monotony and given him purpose. Ren had sworn to protect Snoke. Snoke had allowed Ren to become born again, to leave his past firmly where it belonged. Gow acted as if he had something to teach him? Treasonous!

Gow was right though. The New Republic was stubborn. People were stubborn. Kylo Ren’s head ached at the thought of his idealistic mother standing to lead them against Starkiller. The First Order had already won. Unlike the Death Star, a planet couldn’t just be blown apart unless you had a weapon like Starkiller. It would be fully operational in less than four months. Fools. A Galaxy of fools. They would all be dead soon. Only the strongest would survive. Ren had to find Luke before Starkiller was completed, he had to be destroyed, before he could pose a threat.

“Bring me the Mirialan.” Kylo Ren sent the message after hesitating, but he had no other leads. He tried to imagine anyone getting close enough to Snoke to land a blow to his head like the one Gow said, the one Snoke said, Jes’s father had made. Ren could hide trivial things from Snoke, but nothing that mattered. Snoke told him when he was strong enough, he’d teach him everything he knew. When was that going to be? He’d never been stronger, what was Snoke waiting for?

 

General Hux tried not to be too excited when Phasma’s form appeared on the halo projection.

“And how are preparations going?” He asked eagerly. Hux really did want to know if their changes to the program had made a difference.

“Everything is impressive, and just as we might have hoped. Transitions to Starkiller look like they are going to be smooth. They are set to move next week. Do you think that’s too soon?”

“No. I think they’re more than ready for them. The older units have already been there two weeks, and reports are that everything is being maintained well.”

“Alright. I will let Gow know we are perfectly on schedule.”

“Please.”

“Is there anything else? Or will my written report suffice for now?” Phasma hated having to converse for long periods of time via halo communication.

“No,” Hux affirmed. “I’ll let you know if I have any concerns.”

“Thank you, General.”

 

Hux closed the communication and breathed deeper. Had he been holding his breath? It was much easier with Phasma off his ship. He hadn’t thought of her much at all unless he found himself needing a sounding board. It was at night that he once again seemed unable to keep his mind from thinking about her body. He found himself in the shooting range, letting his mind wander, but hitting all his targets. Phasma had made vast improvements to the First Order training programs. Little things, that had gone a long way, things that came naturally to her, that he figured out how to teach.

When Hux first met Phasma, and her frail little niece, he wasn’t thrilled. His father frequently recruited random human and near human warriors to the First Order, claiming they were the next big thing. Of the dozen or so, only a handful had made any kind of impact. Phasma was tall, and a fierce fighter, but she couldn’t read. She was a fast learner though, impressively so. She hardly knew how to operate an elevator when she arrived, and within three months she could read, write, type, had passed all the basic tests on protocol, history and mathematics. She had read the manuals for all their droids, systems and the schematics of The Absolution. He had watched the list of completed materials stack up in her file. She wanted to know how everything worked. She asked why, more than the children did. He had little to do with her those first few months. She was below his notice.

He had watched as Phasma learned from and surpassed each instructor. By month four, his father had taken to shuffling her around for demonstrations and special tips and tricks. Hux had hated her. He had plotted how to get rid of her. Then one night, on his way to the shooting range, he had watched her in the children’s library. It was late. No one was around. She was watching clips from battles in the Clone Wars. She paused the footage, stood up, and mimicked the movements of one of the clone troopers. Then she continued watching, until once again she paused the clip, scooting back in her chair and tilting her head. She shook her head in disapproval. “Mistake.” She said quietly to herself. Then she pushed play again.

That was the moment Hux could see she was no soldier. She was a strategist. She had been ignorant of their ways, but she was not unintelligent. He watched her then. Watched how she moved, watched how she watched everyone else. He could use that. He was taking notes, and trying to figure out how to use her best when one evening his father had insisted on talking to him. His father had unfortunately called Armitage in to gloat, and insist that he upheave the training program. He wasn’t about to do anything drastic, Phasma had already added so much. As it always did, their discussion turned into an argument. Brendol had called Phasma in to taunt him, and Hux wasn’t having it. In a move he should have seen coming, Brendol forced Phasma to stand against Armitage to prove a point. She easily won and Armitage vowed that he would kill both her and his father at the earliest opportunity. Reason be damned.

He went to the shooting range that night in an attempt to calm himself down, to talk himself into or out of it, whatever logic might dictate. He had never once approached her, in four months, and that night, she came to him. She began by saying she was sorry, and he knew she was only feeling guilty because of how easily she’d beaten him. It didn’t help. He had wanted to turn and shoot her in the face of the helmet she never took off. Then she did something few people had ever done, she surprised him. She didn’t leave, instead she listened to his advice, and then taught him how to shoot, and gave him some.

“Hit them in the face.” He could hear her words still in his mind. It had become his mantra, even if it was only metaphorical for him most of the time. That’s what they had done. Hux had aimed and Phasma had hit. Not right away, but the week she came back from her only leave for the year, with new armor, shiny, special armor, and had the ship’s tailor make her that cape, and no one questioned her promotion – that was when he knew he needed her as an ally.

“Ostentatious enough?” He had said to her in the elevator alone.

“Someone needs to stand out around here.” She’d said the way she always did, clear and measured.

By then she was a war hero. By then everyone in the First Order knew who she was, though no one knew where she had come from. The armor cinched it. She had set herself apart. She was technically a Captain, but she was so much more, and everyone knew it.

“I think it’s entirely unnecessary. But what can I say? I like black.”

He had played indifference, but been there to champion her, and about a year later, they were meeting once a week, and advising everyone, not in an obvious way of course. Hux had been strategic about that. While Phasma became a poster girl for the First Order Storm Troopers, Hux made himself available to everyone and made it clear that he knew everything. He essentially worked his father out of a job, and then had Phasma kill the old man. Now, when he thought about it, he wanted to kiss her.

There it was again, this new feeling. Maybe it didn’t matter. He wasn’t too proud to admit that he liked her. He’d always liked her. Now he just liked her more, and for different reasons. It would fade. In the meantime, he would just enjoy it. He wouldn’t let it bother him. He hoped that wherever she was, she was thinking of him, and not sleeping too.

 

Phasma lay in bed thinking about Kylo Ren. She wondered what his life had been like before he joined the First Order. He still had two living parents somewhere in the Galaxy. He had grown up being known. He had traded that for building a new reputation with Snoke. Like herself. Brendol Hux had made it easy for her to climb the ranks and become a star, Armitage had made it so that she remained at the top.

Armitage. It was such a strange name. She said it out loud quietly the way she’d heard his father say it. Then she softened it a little. The accent she spoke in wasn’t hers. It was the sound of the First Order. Armitage was much easier to say in the speech of her youth. She had heard Hux’s father call him Mitty. That sounded even more ridiculous. Phasma then realized she’d never called Hux anything but Captain, Commander, General. That’s why the idea of his first name sounded so foreign. He was General Hux to her. She was Captain to him.

Then the Captain mounted the General, and the General rode the Captain. That amused her much more than it should. It was late, and she’d had a long day, and she still couldn’t sleep. Then she thought about their first pathetic fight in Brendol’s quarters, now Armitage’s quarters - General Hux’s quarters. This time though, when she thought about it, taking him down to the floor and punching him, she wasn’t punching him. She sighed a loud irritated sigh.

She opened her halo pad and scrolled through the medical records of some of her most wounded Stormtroopers. They were healing adequately. She looked at the physicals of some of the units that were almost ready for combat. They were impressive. She couldn’t wait to get to training them on the ground at Starkiller. Then she noticed something. The name of General Armitage Hux was no longer an inaccessible medical file. The only way she could have access to that, is if he gave her access. He was baiting her. If she clicked it, he would definitely know, he had put it there on purpose. Who knew what she would have access to even if she did open the file. She smiled coyly. Nice try.

 

The next morning Commander Gow left for the day. Phasma felt it was odd timing, but Kylo Ren assured her that it was important. They had another productive day. Phasma liked being with the children. They were so unquestioning and unresentful. They enjoyed their life, they were challenged and understood their purpose.

That evening they welcomed a dozen officers on The Absolution. Including General Hux. Plans had changed. They were to accelerate the staffing of Starkiller and hold General Yatley’s funeral on the planet base. They looked over the details of construction and the schedule of assigned soldiers and details. They argued back and forth until they had come to full agreement, or at least satisfied compromise, and adjourned for evening rations.

“I’ll join you to speak with Snoke.” Phasma volunteered, but she was met with an irritating answer.

“No. I’m tired. Do you mind just patching in from your own chambers?”

She couldn’t say no. So, she’d agreed. The General, the Captain and the Visage all appeared to Snoke via halo feed. It was brief, thankfully. Snoke had already made assignments for most of the arrangements for Yatley’s funeral. Phasma was tired, but she couldn’t sleep, so once again she headed to a training room to burn off some nervous energy. As she came out of her room, Kylo Ren and General Hux were coming out of Hux’s quarters.

“I’m leaving.” Was all Kylo Ren said, before heading the other direction. Hux joined Phasma in the elevator. Why was she annoyed that Hux had clearly invited Ren to his quarters? She wouldn’t have been jealous before, she wasn’t going to be now. She chose to say nothing. The thing that was most surprising was that Hux said nothing too. That wasn’t like him. No explanation. No mindless commentary. No talking to hear his own voice. He left the elevator without saying anything.

It was late when she returned to the elevator. All the generals came onto it from an apparent meeting they had had. Hux was with them. They all had rooms the floor below her own, and exited accordingly. The elevator moved upward indiscernibly. Phasma was standing in front of Hux as she had on Cloud City. He still offered no words to her. She wondered why she suddenly cared so much. In the past, she would have been relieved. She liked silence, she preferred it. They had shared many silent elevator rides. He was tired. As the floor arrival indicated on the quiet glowing buttons, Phasma smelled something like burning.

“Do you-?” Hux’s words were cut off by the billowing explosion that shook the elevator as it opened. Someone had tried to time it to go off in the elevator and missed. Phasma could see a heat signature of a sentient beyond the flames in the hallway. A thermal detonator rolled into the elevator and Phasma kicked it out hard with her metal toe. She turned, shoving Hux down into the corner and shielding him with her body as the second explosion rocked the circuits around them. He balled up exactly as he should have, letting her armor take the heat.

Phasma yanked the small blaster from his holster and slung her larger gun down to him. He took it, locking her eyes, she thought, as she instructed him from behind her mask, “I’m going after them, close the door and go down a floor.” He nodded sharply and she pulled him to his feet by his arms before disappearing through the smoke in the hallway. Poisonous gas floated from his open room. She held her breath. The criminal escaped through a vent. It was always the ventilator shaft. Phasma couldn’t fit through spaces that tight, especially in her armor. She followed the heat signature in the vents until it disappeared to the next floor.

“This is General Hux. Every person on this ship is to be accounted for immediately, all personal check in at once. If you capture the perpetrator, call it in.” There was a crackle and a pause as Hux listened to Phasma’s directive. He continued over the ship’s communication system, “The criminal is in the ventilator shafts. High alert.”

Phasma ran to the elevator and overrode the controls, opening the door and using the lines to slide down the lower floors. The person had to escape, and the hangers were the best option. Phasma couldn’t wait to catch them, to question them, to make their face go from defiant to broken. She had taken Hux’s gun because it had a stun mode. Her large rifle was only for killing. She relished the thought of stunning the little bomber and roughing them up just to watch the fear fill their eyes. She’d sleep better after this. Some of her troopers met her in the hallway. They had tracked the infiltrator to a point.

“I surrender!” A young man’s voice came from the vent above them. The troopers surrounded the vent.

“Come out now, and your life will be spared.” For at least a little while, Phasma thought.

Silence. Phasma looked to her special forces man at the end of the hallway. He looked above his head.

“Captain, that vent shaft splits three ways.”

She was frustrated, he had doubled back, but quickly motioned to three sets of them and assigned directions. They quickly and quietly separated. She had to run faster in the direction she had chosen with her special trooper and two others. They bent around the hallway to the smallest hanger on the ship. Whoever this person was, they knew the ship. Phasma saw a foot as they turned a corner and that spurred them all on faster. A right, then a sharp left, and around the corner – and the man was down.

Gow stood, blaster in hand, on the other side of the body.

“NO!!!” Phasma roared at him. She checked, her suspicions confirmed, lifeless. “Why did you disobey a direct order Commander? Stun only!”

“I didn’t have it set right. I just reacted.” Gow wasn’t trying hard enough to convince her it was a mistake.

“2217, escort Commander Gow to the brig.”

“Excuse me, Captain?” Gow protested.

“Commander.” The special ops trooper held out a pair of cuffs. Gow watched Phasma carefully as they took him away. She was trying not to kill him. He had killed their lead. He had to pay. She wanted to shoot him in the back of the head with his own blaster.

 

“You took him to the brig?” Hux objected, trying to keep up as she headed to the security feed.

Phasma whirled around to him, “He killed the only chance we had of questioning the subject. I take assassination attempts rather seriously, or have we changed protocol?”

“No. You’re right. You were right too about how they could get in. There is one cadet missing. We found his body tranquilized in a closet. He’ll be fine. He was on sanitation detail. They found his armor in the shaft outside my quarters.”

“I want a full guard detail on General Hux’s and the other’s chambers tonight.” Phasma ordered.

“Yes sir!” The trooper sounded young, but he was the right size. He sounded a little too enthusiastic.

“Please, they were caught. Is that necessary?” Hux asked.

“You really are tired. You actually think a person, acting alone, could sneak onto this ship undetected and almost blow you and I to bits?” Phasma demanded.

Hux let that sink. She wasn’t wrong. It was much more likely that they had assistance. Now it made even more sense that she had thrown Gow into the brig. It wasn’t like him to mess up. He had only just arrived, just in time to hear Hux’s order for a full lockdown. Hux decided to do a double check. Each unit would be inspected by their superior officers to confirm their identities. The man who had been killed was a small man, not more than twenty, who had successfully posed as a fifteen-year recruit. By his calculation, it had been hours. They had used a cloaking device to sneak past cameras. They had clearance codes to access his floor. He’d rather have Phasma guarding him, but he could hear in her voice that she was tired too.

Phasma had saved his life. She hadn’t hesitated to shield him with her own armored body. He was shaky now that the adrenaline of the explosion was leaving him. Everyone had done what they were supposed to do. It had been awhile since he’d been that close to a detonation. His head pounded slightly. Hux didn’t argue when Phasma insisted a health tech be sent up to examine him. He hadn’t even noticed the battered elbow, from being thrust into the corner of the metal elevator. Phasma didn’t let the health tech enter the control room until someone could confirm his identity. She never made mistakes, Hux grinned inside. The side of his ear hurt too. He hadn’t realized just how hard he’d gone down. Better bruised than dead. The heat that seared into the elevator would have caused some damage. Hux’s leg and buttocks were tender from the exposure to the flames that attempted to claim his life. If Phasma hadn’t been there, they would have succeeded.

“General?” The health tech asked again, “Bacta shot?”

“Only if you can put a sleeping agent in with it.” He said wearily.

Phasma’s mask didn’t move from his direction. He closed his eyes against the pinch of the needle in his arm. He’d have to stay in a different room. He didn’t relish that thought. He could feel the places where she shoved him down, then grabbed him under his arms and pulled him to his feet like he was a child. He might not have been able to stand otherwise. She was so lovely. So deadly. He let his face stay turned in her direction.

“Is he alright? Are you sure he doesn’t have a concussion?” Phasma asked the health tech. She had never seen Hux like that.

“That’s the sleeping agent kicking in.” The health tech smiled. “I’ll have to take him down on a stretcher. He’ll feel much better in the morning. Nothing like almost being killed to set you on edge. Hero of the night. It’s a pleasure to see you again Captain.”

Phasma looked at the man unhooking the arms of her armor plates. He did seem familiar at first, then, “I remember you,” She said, trying to get his younger face in her mind. “You said you’d rather die than kill anyone. Your unit made your life a living hell.”

“Yeah, but then you put me on that medical rotation, and here I am. Couldn’t be happier. I love what I do. If it weren’t for you, I would have been terminated.”

“You look like you are doing an adequate job.” Phasma observed, as kindly as she could manage, which was still very stiff.

“You have no idea what that means to me.” He smiled as he entered his information into her file, “You don’t seem to have sustained any damage a little bacta cream won’t fix. Your armor did its job, thankfully.”

“Thank you.” Phasma now sat only in her black under-suit and helmet. She was too tired to put her armor back on. She wanted a shower. She wanted to sleep long and deep. There was nothing more she could do that night. Everyone was present and accounted for. Hux was safe and sound asleep. Gow was in the brig. She was too tired to deal with him. He’d have to spend the night there. Let it be his reprimand for being old and foolish. Phasma gathered her armor into a bag and was at ease to see troopers in the hallway. One of them followed her into her room, facing the door as protocol dictated. She took a long warm shower and crawled into bed. The last thing she remembered was the glimmer of light reflecting off the back of the Stormtrooper’s helmet.


	14. Still on The Absolution: Four Months before the Completion of Starkiller

14

Still on the Absolution: Four Months before Starkiller

 

            Phasma stood in the hallway outside the cell where Gow had spent the night. He denied having anything to do with Hux’s assassination attempt. He denied any knowledge of anything surrounding it. She’d been rough with him, and he’d taken it. He was much tougher than he looked. She was having his quarters searched for any evidence. She hated waiting. She trusted her men, but she wasn’t patient. Hux came walking down the hallway, looking perfectly rested. He seemed almost happy, which was strange.

            “I have bad news. Snoke has insisted that Ren take this over, he has an additional prisoner, and full control.” Hux delivered his news, but didn’t sound the least bit disappointed.

            “Why? Does he think there is more than I can get?” Phasma said angrily. Torture wasn’t her specialty, but she thought she was a good read of people, and Gow was hiding something. She was irked that Kylo Ren could do things she couldn’t. She had put her time in longer than Ren had, and yet Snoke favored him, for his power. “I want to be there.”

“That, unfortunately, is entirely up to him.” Hux’s mood had suddenly sunk to his usual serious, dutiful, countenance. “He wants Gow in the double interrogation chamber, now. Gow had a woman with him, that Ren wants to question at the same time.”

Phasma scowled under her helmet. Whatever Ren wants, he gets. She practically dove back into Gow’s cell. She pulled him hard to his feet and jerked him along beside her in the direction Hux had mentioned.

“I don’t know why you won’t just tell me what you know.” Phasma said.

“You are one of the strongest minds in the First Order. This just has nothing to do with you. I’ve long admired you. I made a miss-judgement. I was too hasty. What I thought I saw, the timing just isn’t right. I know what I saw was right, but I was too soon. I’m not patient. Learn from my mistake. He is too unpredictable.”

“Are you speaking of Kylo Ren?” Phasma almost slowed to a halt. He was battered, bruised from her jabs and whacks of her bat. He looked so small, like a little old man. What was the point of him complimenting her now? For all she knew she was taking him to certain death.

She picked up her pace again, suddenly surprised that Hux was still just behind them. They arrived in the room and Phasma followed protocol by strapping Gow against one of the harnesses. Hux lingered there, watching her.

“I know you never liked me.” Gow smiled at General Hux.

“You speak as if you’re dead already.” Hux answered, impressed by his stoicism.

“You two. You really are the best, you’re just outmatched. You need to know when you’re out of your league. Don’t fight it. Find something you truly believe in, and live every day for that.” Phasma looked to Hux as if he would explain the old man’s words, but Hux was fixated on the old man. He stepped close and considered his eyes.

“I already have.” Hux said coldly.

Gow chuckled and coughed, Phasma had rattled his ribs pretty well, “No, it isn’t yours. No matter how hard you want it to be, you’ll always be living someone else’s dream.”

The door slid closed behind them, “Get out.” Kylo Ren growled. Phasma was surprised as the knights with him strapped none other than the Mirialan bartender into the opposite interrogation chair.

“Is this really necessary?” Jes shook her head. Everyone ignored her.

One of Ren’s Knights held a chrome helmet under one arm, that he set down to remove Jes’s patchwork of armor. The helmet looked similar to a Clone Army Trooper helmet, but it had been modified, and had rivets instead of smooth welded seals. The Clone Army helmets were made to fit a much larger, much more masculine head. Even Phasma, tall as she was, did not have a large head. Jes was taller than the average woman, but still at least a full head shorter than she was. Jes had been pretty on Cloud City, her face had been painted to highlight her features, but now Phasma could see that they were close in age, especially without Jes’s wide smile. Her armor, if you could call it that, was nothing but arm guards, shin guards, shoulder bells, and elbow and knee pads. They were chrome, and riveted together, matching her helmet in their crude work. They had deep brown leather straps, and the knights removed them in seconds. Jes wore a deep blue tunic, that was very crinkled and rippling in texture, made of a guaze-like material. It was stained and had small thin spots and the edges were frayed. It was long sleeved, but loose in the upper arms, and had a long patch of deep red fabric sewn just below each shoulder on both sides. Her pants were charcoal grey, and also very worn. She had fabric that wound up from each wrist and ankle that was dingy and grey. Her boots were brown leather, with a riveted metal toe at each end. The knights removed those too. She wore a pair of leather fingerless gloves with a metal plate on the back of each, the knights took the chrome plates and left the gloves on. Jes’s eyes darted around as if taking in everything and everyone in the room at once. Nothing but her darting eyes gave any indication that she was concerned.

“I’d like to stay, Gow is technically under my command.” Phasma insisted. Hux was already following the knights out of the door.

“Fine, but stay back, and don’t speak. I’ll show you how this is done efficiently.” Ren said harshly. Phasma stood by the door, her arms folded, as if she didn’t believe he could do any better, and wondering what the woman from Cloud City had to do with Gow. Ren pulled out two lightsabers. Neither of them were his. Gow’s face lifted. Ren ignited them both and twirled them in each of his hands. Their blades were straight and smooth, nothing like the raspy shaky looking thing he carried around. The only sound they emitted was a soft hum. One was red, and one was green. Jes spoke quickly to Ren’s back.

“I told you I would tell you anything you want, if you just asked nicely. This isn’t neces-“

Kylo Ren cut Jes off, the blades shining only inches from her face. “Stop talking. You have done nothing but talk, and tell me nothing. I’d like to explain how serious I am now.” The man in black whirled around and sliced off Gow’s right hand, just above the wrist. He cried out in anguish and tensed against the pain. Phasma expected to see more blood, but the wound was instantly cauterized by the searing blade. Jes gasped and strained against her restraints. Ren laughed behind his mask. “You think you can just pull these from me as I stand? I guess he really hasn’t told you how strong I’ve become. No. Or you never would have tested me on Cloud City. If you don’t want to lose your hand too, you will answer me frankly. Where is your brother?”

Jes breathed heavily. She steadied herself, and eyed Phasma. Phasma put a hand over her gun, just to be sure the woman couldn’t yank it away. Phasma was captivated. These three, they were feeling something. They knew something she didn’t. They had something she didn’t.

“My brother,” Jes answered, “Was lost trying to seek revenge on Snoke. He was set adrift by the Finalizer crew in an escape pod after being captured. Snoke already recruited him. He knew he was a stronger fighter than you, but Snoke could see through my brother. He saw that Driveem wanted to kill him. So, he wounded him, and set him adrift. He told him if he was meant to have his revenge, he would find a way. I saw him dead. At first I wanted to avenge his death and finish what my father started, but I know I’m not strong enough. I know Snoke is more powerful than all of us. I gave that up, but I still needed to eat. So I reel in contacts based on my brother’s reputation. No one knows it’s me who does the jobs. No one asks, no one cares.”

“Thank you. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Kylo Ren said. “I have no intention of letting you go, until I feel you have truly served your purpose. Snoke thinks you’re a waste of my time, but I am free to use my own discretion, and I’ve been told you have something that is of interest to me.”

“Don’t give it to him, he isn’t ready!” Gow shouted. Ren was standing with his back to Gow, he didn’t look before he turned. He just flung the saber around and separated Gow’s shins from just below knees. Gow yelled louder than before, and puffed his cheeks out against the pain. Gow’s severed wrist had begun to bleed from the strain, not much, but enough that if left unattended, it could kill him. Ren shoved his face closer to Jes.

“Both of you seem to have some insane notion that I’m going to kill Supreme Leader Snoke. Stop it. I won’t do that. Not for me, not for you, not for anyone. He saved me. When he thinks I’m ready, I’ll lead the First Order. Until then, you need to submit, or I’ll end you. Do I make myself clear?”

Jes nodded. She had tears in her eyes, but she swallowed them back and gulped hard. She once again, looked in Phasma’s direction. The Captain wondered what the woman could be thinking. Was she looking for sympathy? She was very foolish if that was it. Phasma considered them to be very stupid. Gow should have known better, experience should have taught him that. As for Jes, she had been ignorant. Now she was not. Ren hadn’t hurt her, she should be grateful.

“Is there anything else you needed to ask them, before we finish here?” Ren turned to the chrome figure standing motionless by the door.

“Do either of them know anything about the attempted murder on General Hux?” She replied.

“Well?” Ren asked the room.

Jes was the first and only to answer. Gow seemed to be focused on managing his pain. “I knew something was going to happen, but I didn’t know how, and I didn’t know Gow had anything to do with it, only that some high officer did. I knew the man though. Small guy. He was a for hire character player of sorts. He was paid to pose and fulfill a purpose. I know several bounty hunters who employed his services. He expected to make it out alive.”

“He wasn’t my first choice,” Gow mumbled. Jes hung her head. Phasma could tell she thought Gow’s attitude was not a smart idea. Phasma liked Jes.

“Tell me,” Ren stepped to the man, whose blood was beginning to drip into the grate of the grim room.

“No.” Gow said. Ren held an angry open gloved hand in the direction of Gow’s head. Ren seemed to be tugging at something, as if something was tied to Gow and Ren was yanking it away. Gow growled in objection and then roared when Ren pulled even harder against him. The man trembled against Ren’s claw-like open air grasp. He was too tired to put up much of a fight. Ren released him and Gow slumped against his restraints. Jes still had her eyes closed, she was turned away from Phasma.

“You’re well practiced old man, but you can feel how much stronger I am than you are.”

“You could have made it hurt less.” Gow whispered.

“I could have.” Ren said, setting both sabers, firmly in his belt. “Captain Phasma, Jes will be staying with us in the brig for now. If she can prove her willingness to comply, I might just keep her alive too. Will you escort her? If she gives you any trouble, end her.”

Phasma dutifully un-fastened Jes’s restraints and took her by the arm, clapping binders over her wrists. As she pushed Jes forward out the door, there was a flash of red and green behind her. Gow was gone. She could feel Jes shudder against her grip, her facial expression didn’t change. The woman seemed very calm for someone who had just witnessed the death of a friend. Phasma admired her. She was foolish for being caught, but she had a strange air of non-chalance that fascinated the tall Captain. Phasma usually threw prisoners into their cells, but she walked Jes down the two steps to the bench, letting the door close behind her. Jes smiled, and leaned back against the wall.

“Thank you. I’ll take all the admiration I can get. I know you think my being here is foolish, but I think if you knew the whole story you’d understand.” Jes said smoothly.

“Admiration?” Phasma scoffed.

“I’ve been training much longer than Kylo Ren. He may be strong with the force, but I still have a few years ahead of him. You and I both know how young he is.”

Phasma sat on the bench, as far from the woman as she could get. “Why did you come then?”

“Not yet. It’s a good story, but it isn’t finished. I’d love to have you for tea sometime. Hear about your life.”

“My life?” Phasma was utterly confused. Did she really think she was going to make it off this ship alive? Was she really a true admirer like she said only six days before?

“Of course. I understand why Ren is angry. He has every right to be. I would be to. He won’t be for long though. How long have you and the General been...together?”

Phasma drew her blaster. “We aren’t.”

“He was right. It was the first time.” Jes tried to stifle a smile, “I’m sure you have a lot in common. A lot between you.”

Phasma holstered her blaster. Either the woman was intentionally trying to get under her skin, or she was genuinely interested. Neither reason would persuade her to divulge anything. The casual mention of Hux made Phasma want to hurt the irritating woman. Ren probably wouldn’t mind if she gave her a black eye or two.

“I wouldn’t let you touch me. You’d probably kill me.” Jes said, sounding disappointed, but she still didn’t open her eyes.

Phasma stood angrily. Jes opened her eyes and sat up, looking hard into Phasma’s mask. “I won’t tell anyone. It’s no one’s business. If I were you, I’d like him too.”

            “Why?” Phasma asked. Looking down at the woman. Jes smiled and closed her eyes.

            “He’s special. So what if he isn’t a warrior? He needs you, but not in a desperate way. He wants you, but not pathetically.”

            Jes’s words were too personal. They were too right. Phasma backed out of the cell as she said, “Don’t do anything foolish.”

“I never do,” Jes smiled.

 

People could be so irritating. Kylo Ren sighed. Jes’s bag of everything she owned lay in the corner of his chambers. Ren was so angry at Gow, he’d almost wished he’d killed him slowly in front of her. There was no room for defiance. That was why Snoke brought him on. He was the wild card. He operated outside First Order protocol. He hardly knew First Order protocol. Snoke had trained him to take care of problems quickly, and independently of the layers of procedure that dictated those sworn to the First Order. It made him smile to think about General Hux almost being blown up in an elevator. Phasma was always around to save him. He wondered how much longer she would be able to stand the machine that was this organization. She took solace in it. Similar to the way he took solace in being on the stronger side. Fools. They were all just clinging to something, out of hope it would lead them to something better, or at least keep them comfortable. He wasn’t excluded.

 

Phasma was surprised to find Hux in her quarters when she arrived. He stood abruptly and held his data pad down at his side.

“General, what can I do for you?” She asked.

“I was merely hiding out. Waiting to hear the entire account directly from you.”

“To have that kind of power.” Phasma sighed.

“No one should have that kind of power.”

“Well he does. They do.”

“They?”

“The Mirialan woman, and Gow. They all have lightsabers too.”

“Gow?!” Hux’s mind raced, “I knew I hated him. I never knew why, that explains it. Don’t we test for that kind of thing?”

“Yes. But there are always ways around the system. Pull up his medical records.”

Hux sat again, and scrolled through Gow’s report. His midichlorian count was an average number, nothing that would raise suspicion. “Obviously forged.” Hux gritted his teeth. He hated it when people found ways around the order of things. “Dear Gods, his hand and his legs?” He paused as the new update flashed across the screen “Terminated”. He looked to Phasma for an explanation.

“Ren used him to inspire answers from the Jedi woman.”

“I’ll say. That must have been gruesome. I might have liked to hear the man scream. He’s never been submissive and it doesn’t sit well. Force users. They’re so haughty, thinking they’re above every rule. Ren must not have known or he’d never have allowed him to run this program as long as he has. Snoke either actually. How did Snoke not know?”

“I almost missed your endless chattering.” Phasma noted.

“I don’t chatter. I think out loud. Excuse me for thinking, I suppose I could always talk to a wall instead of to you.”

“Is that what you did before I came along?”

Hux glared at her. It was something of insubordination. She was teasing him. He did not appreciate that suddenly his officers thought they were allowed to speak to him as if he was not their superior. He didn’t care what had happened on Cloud City. Before Hux could respond, Phasma spoke again. Jes’s words echoed in her mind,“I appreciate your candor. That wasn’t fair.”

Hux realized that was as close as she ever got to a sincere apology. He wasn’t the only one who had been deceived, she was probably angrier than he was. Especially since it was Gow who had killed the infiltrator before Phasma could bring justice. He wanted her to take her mask off. He wanted to see her face. He couldn’t just ask. He had never asked. He thought about the night before, the terror that had gripped him the moment the detonator rolled into the elevator. The way she hadn’t hesitated to kick it away like a piece of trash, and shield him with her armored body. She was just a woman. A strong beautiful-bodied woman clad in armor. She seemed immortal in her chrome plates, but her skin was as soft as anyone’s beneath it. With her standing over him he had seen the only place unhidden, just under her chin, where her collar and her helmet failed to meet. He knew what it felt like to press his lips there. He brushed off the thought before too much silence had elapsed.

“What does he want with the bartender?” Hux asked.

“I think she has information he wants. Something about her brother. She seems compliant. He didn’t lay a hand on her. I think because of something that happened between them in Cloud City.”

“What kind of something?” Hux perked up. He had a morbid fascination for Ren making mistakes. Especially the kind that proved he was human.

“I just know they spent time together, he was trying to get information from her, but she was toying with him.”

“You saw them?” Hux was very interested in that, “You saw them talking? I saw her coming down the hall after – when I was headed to bed.”

“She’s the one who tried to poison us.” Phasma admitted.

Hux leapt up from his chair, “And you let her live?!” This he really could not believe.

Phasma sat down on the bed. She was frustrated. If there had been anyway around it, of course she wouldn’t have. If it hadn’t been for Kylo Ren she would have been able to erase more than one thing on Cloud City. Or maybe not. She knew now that Jes was more than she appeared. She had real power. Power to know thoughts and feelings. Power that gave her a clear advantage. “Ren was protecting her.” Phasma tried to explain, “I couldn’t. She gave up trying again because I was with you. I could have tried to go through Ren. Is that what you want me to do now?”

“No. Maybe just stick a little closer as long as she’s on board. I’d be very dead if you hadn’t been willing to protect me, twice. Ironic. You keep me awake and make it possible for me to sleep.”

“What?” Phasma thought he was eluding to something, but he brushed it off.

“So now we get to explain to all our young soldiers what it means to be a traitor. And how we failed to find him sooner.” Hux pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What about the projection on loyalty and helping your friends be loyal? The importance of your unit, and reporting odd behavior?”

“Is that the one, where the child is told he’s going to be a murderer by an outsider?”

“Yes. And they’re reminded they all would have starved to death if they weren’t here with us.” Phasma stood and looked out the window to the stars. “Or died of illness, or been sold into slavery, or become crippled for life.”

“Grim.” Hux pursed his lips.

“True.” Phasma said quietly. Hux watched her shiny statue at the window. He realized in that moment he knew almost nothing about her. He knew how she liked her tea. He knew how she let off steam. There it ended. He had no idea how she had grown up, why she had joined his father. He had no idea if she had a favorite food, or if she liked to read. He had no idea if she had a family. He did not know if she’d ever been in love, or ever been close to anyone. That was hard to imagine. Had she always kept her hair short? How did she get the small scar above her lip? What did she wear to bed?

Phasma loved to look at the stars. Their vastness reminded her of constancy. The stars were endless possibilities. She imagined what it might feel like to have a lightsaber remove one of your limbs. The nerves would mostly be sealed off, but the bone, and loss of flesh, must be excruciating. She fingered her little Melee knife. Maybe she should carry something bigger. She thought about how frail Hux was. If it weren’t for her clearing out his room he would have been poisoned. If it weren’t for her standing over him the night before, he’d have been burnt to a crisp. Poor Hux. He hadn’t had the experiences she had. He had had an easy life. He hadn’t had to live scared and scrape by. These kind of assassination attempts happened all the time, usually they were stopped before anyone could get close. She had trained her soldiers well. They had trained their officers well. As they became a more known presence in the Galaxy, it was bound to get worse. Hux was tough, but he was ignorant of battle, and what it took to stay alive.

“You should do some simulations.” She suggested to him.

“Of what?”

“Battle simulations. I’ll send you my recommendations. It might keep you alive.”

“Will they teach me to kick a grenade instead of hide from it?” He mused.

“What would you have done, had I not been there?” She turned sharply to him then.

“Probably run into the hallway away from the detonator.”

“You would have run toward your murderer?” She almost laughed.

“I would have shot him.” Hux said firmly. He wasn’t wrong. He was a crack shot. Years of practicing had gained him that talent. It was the one thing he had going for him.

“I would have liked to see you jump into fire and shoot your assailant.”

“Don’t mock. I’d rather a few burns than be exploded into a thousand pieces. It never would have occurred to me to kick a detonator. I doubt that would occur to most people.” Hux reasoned.

“It’s what I teach our Stormtroopers to do. Deflect, block or absorb.” Phasma reminded him.

“You remind me, that perhaps the officers are due for updated training. Many of them haven’t had a refresher since before you were here.”

Phasma was pleased. Hux was a proud man, but he was smart. He would never put his own pride ahead of the good of the First Order. His experience had reminded him just how out of practice for battle he was. She decided to forgive him for his strange behavior the night before. She trusted him. He was never doing one thing, he was always orchestrating. She had to remind herself of that. He had paid her special attention on Cloud City. That couldn’t happen again, but she did want to kiss him again. To tell him she was glad he was alive. She wanted to kiss him last night, when he lay there being examined by the health technician. She didn’t mind being his protector from time to time, but she needed to know he was going to get himself killed if she wasn’t with him. Hux moved beside her at the window.

“I’ve spent more time in the stars than on the ground.” Hux said. “They look so peaceful from far way, as if nothing could touch them. But they are worlds, worlds full of people who need help, who need discipline. Who need to be educated.”

“I was. I never imagined I could float among them. Than anyone could ever journey into the sky.” Phasma marveled.

She had never said anything like that before. She had mentioned being rescued of course, but never anything else, nothing telling. Hux wanted to remove his glove and touch her hand. He loved that she chose to be there with him. That she’d chosen to be there for so many years. He’d never thought about it, that she had a choice, that she’d chosen him over his father. She had chosen to protect him, and listen to him, and advise him. He had taken it for granted. She was the most isolated of anyone in his association. He was the closest thing she had to a friend, she had no time for anyone else. She spent a lot of time alone, he well knew. She didn’t seem to mind. He liked to be alone too. It had been an intense few days.

 

Kylo Ren had been meditating. If there was anything he couldn’t stand, it was false smiles and pretention. A smile should be genuine, not used to distract. He flung off his helmet and dug into Jes’s large bag. A few clothes and food items. A few stray weapons and extra ammunition and power cells. Then, something big and heavy wrapped in rough cloth many times. He pulled the item out and began peeling back the layers of cloth. Then his heart raced as the last layers were pulled away. He sat back like a child who had just seen a ghost.

It was a black helmet. A very damaged black helmet, but not just any black helmet. It was the disfigured helmet of Darth Vader. Where had she gotten this? Kylo Ren lifted it gently in his hands. It had been battered, and slightly melted, but it was unmistakably the helmet of his grandfather. It was heavy, like his own, and as he touched it, even with his gloves on, he could feel how dirty it was. He picked up some of the cloth it had been wrapped in and began to wipe some of the charcoal residue from its surface. Suddenly he didn’t mind that Jes had tried to deceive him, and steal from him. He heard himself laugh. He had been looking for this for years - for decades. It didn’t seem real.

Maybe he wouldn’t kill the Mirialan after all. He shoved her other belongings back into the bag and stuffed it into a cupboard. He set the helmet up on a table, under a light. It was magnificent. He had heard the stories of this dark cloaked man. He had heard stories of his power, of his presence. Growing up there were always two men. One was the man who gave up Luke and Leia after his wife died in childbirth. One was Darth Vader, Lord of the Galaxy who served Emperor Palpatine, the strongest force user anyone had ever known. One man had been a great pilot, and a Jedi, killed by Lord Vader. One man had fought his grandfather and won.

One night, long ago in a suite on Cloud City, he had overheard the truth. Those two men, they were the same. Luke had gone to save him, but failed. Anakin had given his life so that his son could live. Vader had tried to lead the Galaxy, and failed. There was power in a name, in a mask. There was mystery, and fear. No one had been scared of Ben Solo. Kylo Ren was formidable. Vader did not get the chance to be free. Kylo Ren would, he could feel it. Snoke had promised him unlimited knowledge. Snoke had told him he was the one who would lead through the force. He wouldn’t have to kill Snoke, like Jes the Jedi believed. Snoke would pass the First Order to him, when the time came. He was as strong as Vader, or so he was told.

Even Luke Skywalker was afraid of Kylo Ren. Luke was afraid of what he couldn’t control. Ren didn’t need to be controlled, he needed to be unleashed. He was tired of rules and pomp. He was tired of conformity and regulations. Hux viewed him as unstable. Ren wasn’t unstable, he was real, he was raw. Holding your head high, and keeping your feelings in was for politicians. Ren was nothing like his mother, he wouldn’t let rules stop him from getting things done, from making an impact. He hadn’t cared in the beginning, who the people were that Snoke wanted eliminated. He just did what was asked of him. He took over cities under the direction of Snoke, with his knights. It was all for the bigger picture, the larger peace. A few lives here and there didn’t matter if the larger goal was accomplished. It was narrow-minded to think anything else.

Ren’s own mother spent more of her time with everyone but him, and look where that had gotten her. No husband, no son, no peace. A warm smile and gentle hug wasn’t enough to erase months of neglect and years of letdown. He shuddered at the memories. He was always too dramatic. Why didn’t he just say what he wanted? As if the child was supposed to teach the adult. She should have known, any other mother would have known, would have put their child first. Not her. Not the princess.

Ren smirked and placed his bare hand against Vader’s helmet. He suspected Vader didn’t have much of a sense of humor. He must have been intense and sober. His father was the opposite. He never took anything seriously. Especially not plans. Plans were made to be altered, Han would always say. Except the plan to keep Ben’s power secret from Leia and Luke. Han Solo could definitely keep secrets. What a wonderful family trait. Kylo Ren slashed at the air with his lightsaber. What a useless set of parents they had been. Too worried, and doing nothing about it. Not worried enough, and hiding it from everyone. Snoke was right, he was never meant to be with them. It was always his destiny to break away.

Satisfaction was a plan well executed. Satisfaction was the impossible being accomplished. Satisfaction was moving forward. But, to be inspired by the past. Kylo Ren walked around the black crumpled helmet piece. It was a true treasure. He wouldn’t pay for it. He’d trade Jes’s life for it. He’d leave her in the hold of the Absolution until after Yatley’s funeral, before he decided what else could be done with a person like her. A person who was nice, but slippery. In the meantime, he needed to prepare the planet base as their new home.

As the Absolution approached Starkiller, Kylo Ren was looking forward to being on a planet again. It had been years since he had a true planet base. He didn’t mind the cold. It was a snowy planet, with tall trees and mountains. The snow rarely melted all the way. The giant eye of the nearly completed super weapon was amazing. It was hard to imagine the size and scope of it. He couldn’t imagine making an entire machine that size. The second Death Star wasn’t much smaller than their little planetary weapon, but theirs was just a giant gun cut into a planet, not a small moon-sized machine. The concept had been Hux’s. Every weapon of mass destruction was Hux’s. Except the portable canons. Those had been his. He never understood why everything had to be so big. It seemed to make more sense to him to make things portable.

The canons were smaller Death Star technology. They could be locked into the ground and could raze a whole city in under an hour. Then you wouldn’t have to blow up a planet, which was a future shipping nightmare. All that debris didn’t just go away. The pieces of the planet would just hang around the center of gravity, making traveling past it very inconvenient, similar to an asteroid field. Then, when the people and everything else were gone, you still had an empty planet. The canons were only now being mass-produced. One thing at a time, Snoke had said. He had let no one in on the plans for his new command ship. What an unnecessarily large machine that was. Who would want to carry around that many people at the same time? Snoke did. He wanted everything under his watchful eye. Kylo Ren preferred the ground, unless he was flying of course.


End file.
